CIHM 
Microfiche 
Series 
(Monographs) 


iCMH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 


11 


Cwwdton  liwtHuM  for  Hittarical  MIcroraproductiom  /  Inttitut  emadtan  da  mterorapfeductiaiu  MMoriqiiw 


1995 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  technique  et  biUiographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best  original 
copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this  copy  which 
may  be  bibliographlcally  unique,  which  may  alter  any  of 
the  images  in  the  reproduction,  or  which  may 
significantly  change  the  usual  method  of  filming  are 
checked  below. 


0 


Coloured  coven  / 
Couverture  de  couieur 


I     I     Coven  damaged/ 

' — '     Couverture  endommagte 

I     I     Coven  restoied  an*or  laminated  / 
' — '     Couverture  lestaurte  et/ou  pellicuiee 

rn     Cover  title  missing /Le  title  de  couverture  manque 

[     I     Coloured  maps/ Cartes  geographiques  en  couieur 

[7]     ColourBd  ink  (Le.  other  than  t)lue  or  lilack)/ 
"^      Encrede  couieur  (i.e.  autre  que  lileueou  noire) 

ryi     Coloured  plates  and/or  llustiHtions/ 
' — '      Planches  et/ou  illustiations  en  couieur 

I     I      Bound  witti  dtier  material  / 
' — '      Relie  avec  d'autres  documents 

□     Only  edition  avaUable/ 
Seule  edition  dteponible 

I  I  Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin  /  La  rellure  serree  peut 
causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la  distonion  le  long  de 
la  marge  interieure. 

I  I  Blank  leaves  added  during  lestoiations  may  appear 
' — '  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these  have 
been  omMed  from  nming  /  II  se  paul  que  csftaines 
pages  blanches  ajoutSas  ton  d'une  restauralkm 
appareiasent  dans  le  tsxte,  mais,  kmque  cela  «la« 
posatile,  oee  pages  n'cnl  pes  M  flmeas. 


L'institut  a  micrefiim^  le  meilleur  examplaire  qu'il  lui  a 
Mi  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details  de  cet  exam- 
plaire qui  sont  peut-6tre  uniques  du  point  de  vue  bibli- 
ographk)ue,  qui  peuvent  modifier  une  image  reproduite, 
ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une  modifications  dans  la  n)6th- 
ode  nonnale  de  filmage  sont  indiqute  ci-dessous. 

I    ]     Cokxired  pages/ Pages  de  couieur 

I     I      Pages  damaged/ Pages  endommagees 

I     I      Pages  restored  and^or  laminated/ 
' — '      Pages  restaureeset/oupeWcuWes 

[7]      Pages  discokxiied,  stained  or  foxed  / 
' — '      Pages  d*ook>cees,tachel«esoupk|uees 

I     I      Pages  detached/ Pages  detachies 

rvi      ShowthiDugh/ Transparence 

r7]      Quality  of  print  varies/ 

'^     QuaHtemegalederimpression 

I     I      Includes  supplementary  mateiial/ 
' — '      Comprenddu  materiel  suppMmentaire 

I  I  Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
' — '  slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image  /  Les  pages 
totaismeflt  ou  partiellement  obscuicies  psr  un 
feuillet  d'errata,  une  pelure,  etc.,  ont  Ste  fUmSes 
a  nouveau  de  fa;on  &  obtenir  la  meiiieure 
image  possible. 

I  I  Opposing  psges  with  varying  colouration  or 
' — '  discokHiretions  are  nrned  twk:e  to  ensure  the 
best  possible  image  /  Les  pages  s'opposant 
ayant  des  colorations  vsriables  ou  des  decol- 
oratk)ns  sont  lilmees  deux  fois  alln  d'obtenir  la 
meilleur  image  possible. 


I     I      AdMonelcommenls/ 

' — '      CommentalressifipMmsntaims: 


This  ittm  it  tikmd  n  th*  raductien  ratio  ctwdud  bslow/ 

C*  dacwmnt  nt  film*  Ml  mix  dt  rMueiiwi  indleui  ei-dstMHii. 


lOX 

MX 

itx 

ax 

ax 

MX 

D 

U 

— _ 

± 

— 

~ 

H 

1(X 


20X 


ax 


TiM  eepv  nimad  hara  has  baan  raproduead  thanks 
w  Mm  ganaresity  of: 

National  LibtiLry  of  Canada 


L'axamplaira  fUm4  fut  rapreduil  grtca  *  la 
9*n4reaiU  da: 

Bibllothiqua  natlenala  da  Canada 


Tha  imagat  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
peasibia  conaidaring  tha  eonditian  and  lagibility 
of  tha  arlglnai  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
Aiming  contract  spacificatiena. 


Original  eopiaa  in  piriniad  papar  cowan  ara  fltmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  eovar  and  anding  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  illuatratad  Impras- 
aion,  or  tha  bacit  cevar  whan  appropriata.  All 
othar  original  eopiaa  ara  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
fi.  jt  paga  with  a  printad  or  Illuatratad  impraa- 
sion,  and  anding  on  tha  laat  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illuatratad  impraaaion. 


Tha  laat  racordad  (rama  on  aach  microficha 
shall  contain  tha  ■ymbol  --^  Imaaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  tha  symbol  V  Imaaning  "END"), 
whiehavar  appliaa. 

Maps,  plataa.  charts,  ate.  may  ba  filmad  at 
diffarant  raduction  ratios.  Thosa  too  larga  to  ba 
antiraly  includad  in  ona  asposura  ara  filmad 
baginning  in  tha  uppar  laft  hand  comar.  latt  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  aa  many  framaa  aa 
raquirad.  Tha  following  diagrama  illuatrata  tha 
mathod: 


Las  imagas  sulvantas  ont  ttt  raproduitaa  avae  la 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattatt  da  I'aiiamplaira  film*,  at  an 
eonformlt*  avac  laa  conditions  du  control  da 
flimaga. 

laa  aiamplalraa  orlginaux  dent  la  couvartura  an 
papiar  aat  imprimda  sont  fllmSs  sn  cemmancani 
par  la  pramiar  plat  at  an  tarminant  salt  par  la 
darnMra  paga  qui  compona  u(m  amprainia 
d'Impraasien  eu  d'iUusiration,  soit  par  la  sacond 
plat,  salon  la  caa.  Teua  laa  autras  axamplairas 
originaus  sont  fllmds  an  commandant  par  la 
pramMra  paga  qui  comporta  una  amprainia 
d'impraaaion  ou  d'illuawatlon  at  an  tarminant  par 
la  darnidra  paga  qui  comporta  una  talla 
amprainia. 

Un  daa  symbolos  suivanta  apparaitra  aur  la 
damidra  imaga  da  chaqua  microficha.  salon  la 
caa:  la  symbola  — »  aignif ia  "A  SUIVRE",  la 
symbolo  ▼  signifio  "FIN". 

Las  eartaa,  planchaa,  tablaaux,  ate.,  pauvant  iira 
fllmda  d  daa  taus  da  rdduetion  diffdranis. 
Lorsqua  la  document  ast  trap  grand  pour  ttra 
raproduit  an  un  aaul  clichd.  11  aat  filmd  a  partir 
da  I'angia  supdriaur  gaucha.  da  gaucha  d  droita, 
at  da  haut  an  baa,  an  pranant  la  nombra 
d'Imagaa  ndcaaaaira.  Laa  diagrammaa  suivanu 
iUuawant  la  mdihodo. 


1  2  3 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

••woeow  MMXurioN  mr  cha(t 

(ANSI  and  ISO  Tf  ST  CHART  No.  2) 


|2|8 

■  25 

lit 

1^ 

|M 

■■ 

HO 

■  7n 

1.8 


m^tj^ 


ri^PPUEDJVMGEJnc 

1653  Eost  Mom  StrMt 

Roch«tar.  Nm  York       14609      USA 

(716)  «M  -  OJOO  -  Pho™ 

(716)  2aa  -  »a9  -  rm 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


THIRTEEN  MEN 


BY 
W.  A.   l^RASER 


D.  APPLETON   AND   COMPANY 
NEW  YORK  ,906 


156146 


COPVKlCHTt  1906,  By 

D.  APPLETON  AND  COMPANY 


PuhlUhed  Beptemher,  aoe 


CONTENTS 


The  Turbulent.  .     .  '*'" 
I 

The  Ofpcasting  of  the  Nichemods ,, 

The  Home-Comino  of  the  Nakannies     ....     36 

The  "Mbled"  Collie.     .  « 

50 

The  Infatuation  of  Ackerly g^ 

The  Stealing  of  the  Buddha  Pearl ,02 

The  Net  of  Leo      . 

"7 

Mahhet     ... 

160 

FlNNERTT    OF   the    ElePHANT    KeDDAH ,go 

The  Apostasy  of  Moung  Pyu j„5 

Nawaz  Khan,  the  Gift  of  Allah 224. 

The  Blooding  of  a  Griffin j.g 

The  Capture  of  Sheitan jg. 


THE  TURBULENTS 

THIS  story  has  to  do  with  the  period 
of  time  in  which  Swampy,  the  rac- 
coon, associated  with  some  lumber- 
men in  Cameron's  shanty  in  the  thick  Canadian 
woods. 

The  toilers  slew  the  oak  and  chestnut  giants 
of  the  forest,  in  the  matter  of  daily  bread; 
danced  at  some  farmhouse  out  in  the  Scotch 
Block;  toyed  with  immature  corn  whisky  at  Rod- 
ney; or  coon-hunted  in  their  own  forest  at  night, 
in  the  way  of  relaxation.  And,  in  addition  to  all 
this,  there  was  the  sver-present  feud  with  the 
"  river  boys." 

The  McRaes,  the  Campbells,  the  Grahams, 
interminable  of  relationship,  living  along  the 
Thames  River,  held  the  men  of  the  Scotch  Block 
—the  McPhails,  the  Mclntyres,  and  Camerons 
— as  enemies  to  be  thrashed  at  times,  and  reviled 
always.  These  martial  sentiments  were  recipro- 
cally entertained  by  the  Cameron  adherents.  A 
pretty  face  at  a  dance,  with  a  little  misunder- 
standing over  an  engagement  for  a  Scotch  reel, 
I 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

and  a  McRae  and  a  McPhail  would  be  at  each 
other's  throats  out  in  the  chip  yard  before  you 
could  say  "  Great  Wallace !  " 

But  a  sore  irritant  was  the  matter  of  coon 
dogs.  Jack  McRac's  boast  was  that  his  dog 
Watch  could  tree  a  coon  quicker'n  anything  that 
wore  hai  ,  would  stay  with  him  till  the  cows  came 
home,  and  could  lick  his  own  weight  in  swamp 
coons  or  wild-cats.  He  had  enlarged  on  this 
boast  by  addingj  that  he  had  the  best  coon  dog 
in  the  county  of  Elgin,  and  that  Cameron's 
Queenie  didn't  know  a  coon  scent  from  the  odor 
of  a  wild  onion. 

It  was  a  primeval  condition  of  life,  its  atmos- 
phere  surcharged  with  toil  and  strife  and  re- 
ligion  and  coon-huntiag. 

Swampy's  advent,  though  dramatic  enough, 
was  uneventful  compared  widi  his  exit. 

His  mother,  a  true  swamp  coon,  long  of  limb, 
black-haired  on  the  back,  and  stout  of  heart, 
hibematmg  through  the  long  winter  in  the  hol- 
low hmb  of  a  black-ash  tree,  came  by  the  way  of 
a  family  in  the  month  of  April.  Half  a  month 
later,  the  Cameron  men  felled  her  lofty  home 
for  lumber;  mother  coon,  darting  from  her  front 
door,  was  set  upon  by  Queenie  and  was  slain. 

The  fall  of  the  ash  had  killed  all  the  young- 
sters but  one,  and  the  foreman,  Mclntyre,  put 
2 


THE   TURBULENTS 

the  orphaned  little  creature  in  the  bosom  of  his 
flannel  shirt,  and  carried  it  to  the  log  shanty. 
That  was  in  the  evening,  and  the  whole  camp 
entered  seriously  into  the  consideration  of  how 
the  httle  chap's  life  was  to  be  saved. 

A  plump,  gray,  fluffy  ball,  with  an  extremely 
attenuated  nose,  the  coon  babe  slept  in  a  little 
box  filled  with  cotton  batting  behind  the  cook 
stove,  totally  oblivious  of  the  grave  question  he 
had  raised  by  his  unwilling  advent. 

It  was  Ben  Locke  who  hit  upon  the  brilliant 
Idea  that  proved  so  satisfactory  at  first  and  so 
productive  of  disorder  later  on.  "  Try  him  with 
Queenie,"  Locke  suggested;  "  she  might  take  to 
him  in  place  of  one  of  her  pups.  I  believe  she's 
lonesome  with  only  Bruce." 

Queenie  was  a  half-bred  collie,  and,  as 
such,  great  in  motherly  instinct,  and  jealous  to 
a  degree.  Her  brown  eyes  searched  Locke's 
face  understandingly  as,  with  forefinger  ex- 
tended wamingly,  he  commanded  her:  "  Down, 
Queenie!  Now,  now— that's  a  good  dog— 
that's  a  good  dog  I  "  This  while  Mclntyre  held 
the  little  orphan  to  the  mother-fount  of  nour- 
ishment. 

There  is  no  doubt  diat  Swampy's  methods  dif- 
fered from  the  collie  pup's,  for  Queenie  curled 
her  hps  in  a  snarl  that  showed  her  white  teeth, 
3 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

and  growled  her  disapproval.  But  Swampy 
made  good  use  of  his  time;  and  presently,  his 
little  stomach  round  and  taut  like  a  toy  drum,  he 
was  put  back  in  his  box  and  presented  in  this 
shape  to  Queenie  for  inspection. 

No  one  ever  knew  how  it  happened,  but  in  the 
morning  Swampy  was  found  sleeping  with  the 
collie  pup  at  the  mother's  side.  After  that  he 
was  made  free  pf  the  collie's  bed,  and  made 
foster  brother  to  Bruce,  the  pup. 

He  washed  his  food  in  a  little  wooden  trough 
before  he  ate  it,  and  poked  his  thin,  inquisitive 
nose  into  cupboards,  boxes,  and  every  nook  of 
the  log  shanty.  From  a  long  line  of  swamp- 
dwelling,  night-prowling  ancestry  had  come  to 
him  an  inherited  sensitiveness  of  touch.  His 
slim,  biack-skinned  fore  paws  were  like  another 
pair  of  eyes;  he  appeared  to  be  always  feel- 
ing for  treasure.  Sometimes,  half-angered  by 
Bruce's  foolishness  of  puppyhood,  his  sharp 
claws  cut  little  lines  of  remonstrance  in  the  youth- 
ful collie's  face.  The  thin  parchment  ears  of 
Swampy  were  slit  into  ribbons  by  the  fishlike 
teeth  of  his  dog  foster  brother.  "ITius  the  three 
played  together,  and  ate  together,  with  as  much 
amity,  relieved  by  occasinial  family  jars,  as 
though  they  were  all  dogs  or  all  raccoons. 
When  Swampy  was  a  little  over  a  year  old, 
4 


THE   TURBULENTS 

one  night  the  tremulous  whistle  of  his  own  kind 
sang  in  his  slit  ears  from  a  tree  in  the  forest 
and  something  that  he  had  forgotten  all  about 
came  to  him  with  compelling  force.  He  had 
lain  there  the  child  of  a  collie  modier,  and  in  a 
minute  a  dozen  whimpering  notes  of  call  reincar- 
nated him  and  he  was  a  coon.  Inherited  visions 
of  a  black-ash  swamp  in  which  he  might  puddle 
all  through  the  hours  of  darkness  for  frogs  and 
snails  and  things  delicious  to  a  coon's  palate 
flashed  through  his  mind. 

He  stole  softly  from  the  little  box  diat  was 
his  home,  raised  his  gray,  black-barred  muzzle, 
sniffed  inquiringly  toward  the  forest,  and  then 
slipped  like  a  noiseless  shadow  across  the  clear- 
ing and  was  swallowed  up  in  the  gloomed  bush. 
Men  came  and  went  from  the  Cameron  lum- 
bering gang,  and  their  passing  was  of  transient 
regret;  but  Swampy's  defection  laid  melancholy 
upon  the  whole  camp.  The  men  said  he  would 
come  back  again,  but  he  did  not. 

One  moon  from  the  passing  of  Swampy— it 
was  a  September  night— Locke  and  Mclntyre, 
«king  the  dogs  and  their  axes,  made  their  way 
along  three  miles  of  bush  road  to  a  little  clearing 
in  the  woods.  This  field  was  planted  in  com, 
and,  as  Locke  said,  every  coon  in  the  bush 
knew  it. 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

Eager  in  the  hunt,  having  knowledge  of  its 
method,  the  dogs  slipped  silently  through  a 
fence;  their  masters  perched  on  its  topmost  rail 
and  listened  to  the  whispering  com  leaves  as  the 
dogs,  panting  in  blood  lust,  chased  through  the 
rustling  stalks,  up  and  down  the  dwarf  avenues 
of  the  miniature  forest.  A  misty  moon  peeped 
over  a  somber  tree  wall  into  the  little  clearing, 
turning  to  jewels  the  dewdrops  held  in  the  silver 
feathers  that  were  the  tassels  of  the  corn. 

Nose  to  ground,  Queenie  raced;  at  her  heels 
the  pup.  When  Bruce  sought  to  forge  ahead, 
the  mother  lunged  at  him  with  her  teeth,  adding 
a  yelp  of  admonition.  She  knew  that  even  then, 
perhaps,  the  one  they  sought  was  safe  settled  in 
a  tree;  but  if  shi  clung  dose  to  the  trail  they 
would  come  to  his  hiding  place,  and  then  her 
partners  in  crime,  the  humans,  would  bring  him 
to  earth  for  a  grapple. 

At  first  above  the  whispering  of  the  shadowy 
corn  came  little  whines  of  anxiety,  as  though 
Queenie  asked:  "Where  is  he— where  is  he?  " 
Then  there  was  a  short  yelp  of  delight. 

" Found  1  There's  one  there!"  Locke  mut- 
tered, touching  his  companion's  arm. 

Presently,  as  the  scent  freshened,  shorter  and 
sharper  came  the  "  Yeh-yehl"  and  then,  from 
a  half-burned  fallow  beyond,  with  its  blackened 
6 


THE   TURBULENTS 

stumps  and  charred  logs,  Queenle's  voice  came 
back,  tingling  the  night  air  with  a  joyous  "  Yi-ih- 
ih,  yehl " 

The  men  slipped  from  the  fence,  dashed 
through  the  cornfield,  sprawled  through  the 
labyrinth  of  burned  logs,  into  the  woods  on  the 
farther  side,  over  a  sandy  knoll  clothed  with 
beech  and  maple,  and  down  into  a  black-ash 
swamp,  where  the  ringing  baric  of  dogs  told  they 
had  treed  a  coon. 

Halloo  I  "  ejaculated  Locke,  as  they  came  to 
the  scene  of  turmoil,  "  darned  if  there  ain't  an- 
other  dog  I  Wherein  thunder— ?  Hanged  if  it 
ain'tMcRae'sI" 

"  We're  here  first,  whatever,"  Mclntyre  an- 
swered.  "  We'll  make  a  fire,  so  we  can  see  to 
chop." 

The  swamp  was  dry  from  the  summer 
drought,  and  while  the  men  gadiered  sticks 
and  built  a  fire,  Queenie  sat  on  her  haunches,  her 
nose  pointed  at  the  stars,  and  her  red-brown 
eyes  fixed  wistfully  on  something  very  like  a  fur 
muff  high  up  in  the  ash.  Bruce  and  the  McRae 
dog  were  tearing  about  the  tree,  jumping  against 
Its  smoodi-barked  trunk,  and  causing  the  forest 
to  echo  with  their  clamor. 

"  We  can  throw  her  into  that  openin',"  Locke 
said,  as  he  squinted  up  the  tree;  "let's  hurry. 
7 


THIRTEEN  MEN 

Them  McRae  boyi'U  be  ineakin'  in,  an'  daimin' 
their  cur  treed  the  coon." 

Ai  the  axes  rang  sharp  and  clear  against  the 
ash  three  men  slipped  into  the  firelight  and  a 
voice  said:  "  Hey  there,  you  fellers,  what're  you 
uoin'  ?  " 

Locke  grounded  his  ax  and,  leaning  on  the 
handle,  retorted  sarcastically:  "Shavin'  myself. 
WhatV!  you  think  I  was  doin'?  " 

"  Looks  like  you  was  choppin'  down  'nother 
man's  coon." 

"  Not  on  your  broadax,  Jack  McRae.  Our 
dogs  druv  the  coon  out  of  Gillis's  com,  an'  treed 
him;  an'  as  we  sort  o'  happened  along  'bout  that 
time,  we  kinder  surmised  'twouldn't  be  a  bad 
idee  to  chop  him  down." 

''  Us  boys's  got  that  job  in  hand,  Ben  Locke." 
"  We're  first,  which  is  nine  points  of  the  law." 
"  Vm  thinkin'  you've  got  two  points,  an'  we've 
three,"  McRae  rejoined  menacingly. 

"  Look  here.  Jack  McRae,"  broke  in  Mcln- 
tyre,  "  that's  too  strong.  We're  not  out  for 
trouble,  but  we'll  chop  this  coon  down,  what- 
ever." 

"If  you're  a  better  man  nor  me,  you're 
meanin',  Dan  Mclntyre,  by  God  I"  and  the 
speaker  slipped  o£F  his  coat  and  rolled  up  his 
sleeves. 

8 


THE  TURBULENTS 


1 II  take  that  from  no  man." 

Lock.  intenxMed.    "  What',  the  u.e  of  you 
nver  boy,   ookin'  for  trouble.    You  know  [u.t 

hancfa  full  with  Dan.  Let  the  fightin'  go  till  'he 
S  „  w"  W""-«°---  there'll  be  plenty  of  U 
then     We  come  out  for  coons,  an'  w  did  you." 

which  makes  a  grand  difference." 

^am^K  n      '"'"  ^'^"  •'"y*  °"'  »"d  Archie 
Campbell  can  see  fair  play." 

"  Well,  spit  it  out  of  you,  Locke." 

"  We  was  here  first,  an'  oughter  have  first 

d";.  b^r"'  P?'" '""  ^»  ^-  y-  "^"p  you 

yoJm  "    '  "     ''  """^  "^""'^  «'*  *«  •^^o".  he'. 
"You're  meanin',  Locke,  you'll  give  us  a 

It  s  a  pretty  th.ck  bush  here  in  the  swamp,  an' 

most  hke  the  ash'll  lodge,  then  the  coon'lf'skip 

nto  that  elm-perhaps  he'll  do  it  soon's  the  ash 

starts  o  go;  from  the  run  he  give  our  dogs  he's 

cumim   enough  for  anythin'.     Anyway,  'tain't 

9 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

no  UM  good  men  fightin'  over  a  pelt  that  ain't 
worth  more'n  a  dollar.  We're  two  to  three,  but 
we  ain't  goin'  to  take  no  back  water." 

The  McRaea  and  Campbell  stepped  to  one 
•ide  and  debated  the  question;  the  well-known 
fightmg  abihty  of  "Strong  Dan"  Mclntyre 
havmg  something  of  a  mollifying  influence  upon 
their  spirits. 

M'd :     We  11  agree  to  that,  only  we'll  draw  lots 
ror  first  try  at  die  coon." 
"All  right,  t)oys,"  Locke  acquiesced;  "we'd 

n  /..'^^r"*'"'  *»"  "k*"'  ^°«'dn't  we, 
UM  t  There  was  a  deprecating  pleasantry  in 
his  voice  which  amounted  to  a  sneer.     * 

Then  he  broke  two  twigs,  placed  dicm  be 
^een  his  fingers,  and  held  his  hand  up  to  Mc 
Rae,  saymg,  "  Draw,  Jack;  long  stick  wins." 

The  other  drew;  and  Locke,  throwing  the  re- 
maining  twig  in  the  fire  with  an  angry  jerk, 
growled:  "  You  win;  go  ahead." 

While  the  Cameron  men  sat  holding  their 
dogs,  the  others  sank  eager  axes  into  the  soft 
flesh  of  the  black  ash. 

Soon  a  shivering  moan  went  up  icom  the  tree  • 

Its  top  trembled  and  swayed;  as  Jack  McRae 

drove  die  blade  of  his  ax  to  its  eye  there  was  a 

crackling  scream  of  dissolution;  the  ash  reeled 

10 


THE  TURBULENTS 


i^^''' H  u"  "  .•'""^'  ""''  ^hen  iwept  down- 
ward    Halfway  in  iti  fall  to  earth  a  ttL^Trl 
cjught  In  the  ein.  and  the  tree  hun^lZJ^^a 
With  a  powerful  stroke  the  axman  knocked  the 
butt  from  .ts  holding  ,tun,p,  the  tree  rolled  and 
with  a  .wishing  ,igh,  fell  to  it.  .ide. 

i  he  McRae  dog  dashed  into  the  manv  lioiS*^ 

bl  die  y  along  a  limb  while  the  tree  .waved  i J 
m.d.ajr.  had  jumped  into  a  .lender  Tamamk 
and  clambered  nimbly  to  it,  top. 

back  toThe  r  r"1  '"  *'  -'^'««'  «""« 
Then  ?  1,  '  *'"■  '""  »""«="  With  anger. 
Then  Locke  stepped  over  to  the  tamarack  fnd 
ran  h.s  eye  up  it.  length,  which  wa.  like  the 
tapering  spar  of  a  yacht. 

"  an'?h!,r"''  ""  '^"'  "■«'''  '='"'"8'''"  be  said, 
an   there  am't  no  use  fallin'  this  saphn'-  ifd 
never  come  down-it'd  lodge  sure  "  ' 

..  i!;"'"  ^°^"  and  pulled  off  his  boots,  saying- 

thldotK""^''''''''"'^"-"-    ^--S'' 
Locke  had  been  a  sailor  on  the  Great  Lak.. 

rack  Jike  a  boy.    As  he  approached,  the  much- 

had"  huo^Z^T'  '™'"  ^"^  -'-^h  -  whiTh  te 
had  huQdIed  and  crept  cautiously  along  a  slender 
bmb.  where  he  hung  by  his  long,  sha,p^laws 
*  II 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

"  Look  out  below  1  "  Locke  cried,  standing  in 
the  crotch;  then  he  struck  the  limb  a  sharp  blow 
with  the  sole  of  his  foot.  The  coon,  dislodged, 
drew  in  a  great  lungful  of  air,  till  he  was  blown 
out  like  a  football,  and  fell  lightly  to  earth. 

With  a  rush  Queenie  and  Bruce  were  upon 
him ;  and  then,  even  as  they  stuck  their  noses  into 
his  fat  stomach  as  he  lay  on  his  back  ready  to 
battle,  the  two  dogs  sheathed  their  teeth  and, 
drawing  back  a  little,  sniffed  in  a  puzzled  man- 
ner  at  the  quarry.  And  through  the  sensitive 
nostrils  of  the  collie  mother  vibrated  the  faint 
scent  that  reawakened  a  memory  almost  obliter- 
ated ;  it  was  the  scent  that  once  had  stood  for  one 
of  her  own  children.  She  gave  a  whine  of  de- 
light;  pleading,  eager  it  was,  and  wirfi  her  paw 
she  scratched  coaxingly  at  the  coon's  neck. 

The  foster  mother  had  come  by  the  truth;  it 
was  Swampy,  the  escaped  one. 

But  with  him,  a  half-generation  reclaimed 
from  the  forest  life,  memory  was  shorter;  he 
had  lapsed  rapidly  to  the  primal  savagery  of  his 
race.  His  white  teeth  gleamed  for  an  instant  in 
the  firelight  and  then  were  buried  in  the  paw  that 
was  the  transmitter  of  mother  affection. 

With  a  yelp  of  pain,  even  of  indignant  remon- 
strance, the  collie  sprang  back,  and  Swampy, 
rolling  leisurely  to  his  feet,  scuttled  back  to  the 

12 


THE   TURBULENTS 


Mclntyre-  to  him  hZ  P'"fo""'ne,  all  but 

coon  is  t7hctZ71  T  ^'""^'^  *^'  *^ 
wo.dWto™t:X^t^,X--''^^- 

tool  111';  3  --'jf^  ^^;  tree,  Ca.pbel, 
and  the  latter  Z      'f"°^'^'  McRae  dog, 

'"•s  throat  po^ntdl'onT''  "''  '  ""'  '^ 

Then  SwLp?Er  tr'n^"°"- 
^is  foster  brothJr  Bre^anrtt^r'^  "' 
strance  into  the  rash  M.d      j  °^  '■^"'°"- 


THIRTEEN    MEN 


Dan,"  and  sought  to  batter  him  in  the  way  of 
reproval. 

The  din  of  battle  came  to  Locke's  ears,  and 
his  breeches  screeched  and  fairly  smoked  with 
the  friction  of  his  descent  as  he  shot  down  the 
scale-barked  tamarack.  It  was  a  time  for  rapid 
descent :  he  was  needed.  Strong  Dan  was  surely 
being  dragged  to  earth  when  his  companion, 
crouching,  after  the  manner  of  sailors  in  a  fight, 
made  entry  to  tjie  festive  scene. 

"You  would— blank  you!— Huh!"  That 
was  a  grunt  at  the  butt  end  of  a  blow,  as  Locke's 
fist  swung  inward  on  Campbell's  chin  and 
dropped  him  to  his  knees.  Before  Locke  could 
recoil  to  guard,  Jim  McRae's  long  arm  flopped 
around  like  the  loose  end  of  a  flail,  and  the 
Scotchman's  fist,  as  hard  as  a  horse's  hoof  from 
rough  toil,  smashed  like  a  brick  into  the  sailor's 
face. 

It  was  a  joyous  mill,  flagging  not  for  the  new- 
fangled innovation  of  rounds.  It  was  one  long 
continuous  swirling  round,  full  of  action,  good 
old-time  rough-and-tumble  rules  governing  the 
contest. 

Locke  was  a  master  in  the  sailor's  fighting  art, 

which  is  a  method  of  fair  execution;  and  Mc- 

Intyre's  strength,  known  throughout  the  county, 

was  as  hurtful  as  a  bear's.    On  the  other  side 

14 


THE   TURBULENTS 


here  were  three  of  the  river  boys:  the  McRaes, 
ong  of  hmb,  clean  of  wind,  like  cats  on 
their  feet-proper  woodsmen;  while  Campbell, 
though  short  of  stature,  had  been  nicknamed 
F.ghtmg  Archie."  Hate  and  clan  rivalry  set 
a  fast  pace,  and  the  combatants'  diligent  method 
would  soon  bnng  a  verdict  for  one  side  or  the 
other. 

Meanwhile  the  cause  of  the  little  unpleasant- 
ness had  scuttl-d  up  the  tamarack  once  more, 
where  he  sat  blinking  curiously  at  the  extraordi' 
naq.  animals  who  shattered  the  peace  of  the  for- 
est below.  Because  of  the  preoccupation  of  their 
masters  the  dogs  carried  on  their  engagement, 
until  Watch,  outnumbered  and  sorely  bitten 
curled  his  tail  between  his  legs  and  took  to  th,' 
darkened  bush  with  howls  of  disgust 

The  uneven  ground,  the  big  roots  of  the  elm, 
and  the  slippery  moss-covered  sticks,  introduced 
a  rare  element  of  chance  into  the  contest.    Some- 
times    Strong  Dan  "  wa.  on  his  back  with  two 
men  atop,  until  Locke,  throttling  one  of  them, 
would  sip  and  all  hands  go  rolling  over  one  J. 
other  like  pups  at  play.    It  was  like  a  football 
scrimmage;  m  the  faulty,  glimmering  firelight  a 
hard-knuckled  fist,  missing  its  mark,  would  land 
on  the  nose  of  a  friend. 
The  Marquis  of  Queensbury  and  his  rules  had 
15 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

never  puzzled  the  minds  of  these  busy  Scotch- 
men.  It  was  go-as-you-please,  kick  and  slug 
and  clinch  in  that  ring,  which  was  the  whole 
black-ash  swamp.  Rough-and-tumble  bars  noth- 
ing bui  the  gouge  and  the  bite;  and,  so  far, 
the  combatants  adhered  closely  to  these  honor- 
able rules.  If:  was  a  scrap  of  fervor,  fast  and 
furious;  at  times  a  little  breathing  spell  coming 
in  a  clinch.  They  were  almost  too  busy  for 
speech.  Once  Mclntyre  grunted :  "  Take  that, 
McRae,  blank  you !  "  as  his  Scotch  knuckles, 
high  in  bone,  ripped  like  a  saw  at  his  opponent's 
eyebrow.  And  Jack  retaliated  with  a  kick  that 
would  have  opened  an  oak  door. 

Locke,  less  economical  of  speech  than  the 
Scots,  encouraged  his  fighting  comrade  from  time 
to  time.  "  Give  it — to  him — Dan !  I'm  at  your 
—back."  And  he  was.  But,  unfortunately  for 
his  powers  of  succor,  he  was  surrounded  himself. 
Three  men  can  deploy  in  battle  more  promiscu- 
ously than  two ;  so  there  wa.  always  a  spare  fist 
ready  to  prod  either  Dan  or  Ben  just  as  he  was 
getting  the  better  of  his  opponent. 

Locke's  face  was  redder  than  the  rose,  and 
the  crimson  hiie  had  smeared  his  shirt  front;  he 
peered  with  difficulty  from  beneath  a  beehive,  or 
something,  that  hung  heavily  over  his  left  eye. 
Three  times  Campbell  had  been  knocked  as 
i6 


THE   TURBULENTS 
many  feet j  but  he  was  a  wasp,  a  terrier  that  came 
snarling  back  to  meddle  officiously  with  four 
good  men  who  desired  to  settle,  in  their  own 
way,  a  difference  of  opinion. 

Once  the  two  McRaes  held  Mclntyre  in  their 
long  arms  until  he  was  like  a  figure  of  the  La 
ocoon.    Jack's  left  had  Dan's  head  in  chancery, 
while  with  his  right  he  upper-cut,  only  to  batter 
his  Iwuckles  against  the  Mclntyre  skull. 

Will  you  take  water  now,  blank  you  ?  "  Mc 
Rae  panted. 

For  answer  Strong  Dan  buckled  his  hips  side- 
wise  and  with  a  feint  of  throwing  his  opponent 
backward,  gave  him  the  rolling-hip  lock,  and 
McRae  turned  in  the  air,  falling  on  his  back 
heavily.  That  would  have  settled  it  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  spare  man.  Before  Mclntyre  could 
recover  from  the  throw  he  was  back-heeled  by 
the  brother  and  brought  down,  with  a  McRae 
atop. 

Locke,  jumping  back  from  a  swing  of  Camp- 
bells  fist,  found  time  for  an  impromptu  kick  at 
.[im  McRae's  ribs;  and  at  the  same  minute  Mc- 
lntyre turned  his  m  n  beneath. 

Jack  was  up  again,  and,  first  pivoting  a  blow 

into  the  base  of  Locke's  skull  by  way  of  assist- 

ance  to  Campbell,  reached  down  and  clutched  at 

Mclntyre's  throat  with  his  long  fingers  for  a 

17 


Thirteen  men 

strangle-hold.  Then  he  pitched  forward  at  a 
blow  from  Locke,  and  the  three— the  two  Mc- 
Raes  and  Mclntyre— rolled  over  and  over  in  a 
rround-tussle.  Suddenly  Jim  McRac's  hand, 
clutching  treacherously  at  his  enemy's  face, 
found  an  opening,  and  two  fingers  slipped  into 
his  mouth,  fastening  upon  the  cheek  in  a  gouge- 
hold. 

Just  as  Locke  had  landed  a  subduing  blow 
over  Campbell's  heart  he  heard  a  half-smothered 
cry  of  "  Gouge  1  "  from  his  comrade.  The  flick- 
ering  firelight  fell  red  upon  the  polished  steel  of 
an  ax  almost  at  Locke's  feet.  With  an  oath  the 
sailor  swung  it  over  his  head,  and,  springing  to 
the  struggling  group,  cried:  "Let  him  up,  you 
dogs,  or  I'll  split  your  heads  open!  I'll  smash 
you  like  a  rat  for  gouging— you  cowardly 
Indians  I  " 

Locke's  address  was  short  and  very  much  to 
the  point;  even  the  advantage  of  a  gouge-hold 
sank  into  insignificance  compared  with  the  ad- 
vantage a  man  held  standing  above  them,  ax  in 
hand.  With  a  growl  Jack  McRae  rose  to  his 
feet,  while  the  fingers  of  Jim  uncurled  from  their 
vise-like  grip. 

With  a  twist  Dan  turned  the  McRae  under 
and  sprang  to  his  feet,  saying:  "Get  up  now, 
you  dirty  dog,  whatever  I    Stand  by,  Ben,  to  see 
i8 


THE   TURBULENTS 


fair  play  an-  I'll  lick  the  .vo  of  them.    Fight- 
in  nver  boys — gougers  1  " 

th/Sa'„3  Y°'"''  *'''^d""™i"«!n^  between 

Tver  tt  I  '  ^°T''  ''"'  '^'  '''««^'-  ^"  well 

over  the  I.nc  into  the  illegitimate. 

"^Il7".u"'''"^'  ^'"'"  ^'^'  ^postulated; 

be!  yful  of  fight  th.s  time.    We  don't  scrap  with 
old  women  that  scratch  " 

allv^ai?"  "'V^  '^^  P"''="^'  ''"''^  kind  usu- 
ay,  and,  as  .s  the  manner  of  that  tribe,  when 

hisbood  was  up,  was  hard  to  subdue. 

1 11  tell  you  this  whatever,  Jack  McRae," 
he  sa,d  angnly,  "I-l,  gi,e  you  a  thrashin'  L 
thus  mghfs  work  yet.  You've  boasted  from 
Rodney  to  the  town  line  that  you  could  best  any 
man  m  the  Scotch  Block,  an'  I'll  „,ake  you  eal 
your  words.  An'  forbye  you're  doubtin'  wha 
I^msayn,  just  step  out  here  an'  fight  like  a 

retZd"'"^?''°"!; ''''""•  Mclntyre,"  McRae 

in'  axes '"  '  *'''""  "°^  ""'  ^°-"''»  ''-"g" 

This  exchange  of  compliments  was  good,  in 

he.rj  J  ?'  '"P'*'  ^'■'""  ^^*'°"  allowed  the 
heated  blood  to  cool.    And  as  for  fighting,  it 

clamored  for  more  than  had  been  served  out  in 
19 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

the  ash  swamp.  Mclntyre's  face  bore  eloquent 
testimony  to  the  excellence  of  the  entertainment, 
and  the  McRaes  were  battle-scarred  to  a  high 
degree. 

As  the  two  parties  gathered  their  axes  and 
prepared  to  depart,  Mclntyre  spoke  again :  "  I'll 
tell  you.  Jack  McRae,  why  Queenie  didn't  tackle 
the  coon,  fearin'  ye'U  spread  it  from  the  town 
line  to  the  lake  that  she's  no  a  good  coon  dog: 
yon  coon  is  Swampy,  that  she  raised  as  one  of 
her  own  pups;  and  that's  why  she'd  no  put  a 
tooth  in  him.  And  now,  Locke,  do  you  away  up 
the  tamarack  again  and  bring  Swampy  down  in 
your  arms  this  time.  We'll  take  him  back  U  the 
shanty." 


ao 


THE   OFFCASTING   OF  NICHEMOUS 

IN  the  first  place  Lieut.  Hugh  Royd  became 
of  .merest,  as  far  as  this  story  is  concerned, 
even   '"/'"8°°"-.  ^hat  was  long  enough  ago 

taken  bv°h-         T  '"'"^  '^'''•"'-  ''»'   ''»« 
taken  by  h„  royal  neck  and  led  out  of  the 

countn.  by  the  British  Raj.-thirty-one  yea„. 

Nobody  ever  quite  knew  why  he  apsUd  out  of 

he  regiment,  which  is  a  Hind,ostanee  word  de 

wo"rke"d'«kr"T"'""''''^  '''''^''-  "'  ^^'^ 
a  Sub  .Ih  f  \'T  *°  «"  *"■*  commission  a, 
a  Sub,  and  fought  like  a  hero  to  exchange  that 
for  somed^mg  higher;  and  then  in  a  singlf  n  gh 

.sh  „ffl         ''\^«'°"«'«''  paraphernalia  of  a  Brit! 

ish  officer,  and  m  the  morning  crawled  aboard  an 

outgomg  steamer-a  thing  closely  allied  to  a 
oaal  panah;  for  when  a  young  man  cuts  the 
entice  without  some  higher  motive  ostensibly 

'"  sight,  It  ,s  considered  decidedly  bad  form 

sta^Zi^  T  ""^"^'  ^'"^ ''  '''^"  ^  «^«P''n8 
TTT  '■  il ' """"""  ^'^'  '"'<J  ^J^o  one  other 
man,  who  did  not  cut  the  service.  She  did  not 
tell;  neither  did  the  other  man;  Royd  disa^ 

21 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

peared,  so  practically  nobody  knew.  And  this 
story  has  only  to  do  with  die  other  end  of  Royd's 
long  drawnK)ut  term  of  misfit  in  the  universe. 

Neither  does  what  had  happened  in  the  inter- 
vening  d>irty-one  years  matter  much;  for  it  was 
at  the  end  of  that  time,  in  the  present  year,  that 
the  love  replica  came  again  to  Kootenay  Royd, 
ex-Lieutenant  in  Her  Majesty's  service. 

Almost  at  the  feet  of  Chief  Mountain,  close 
to  the  Montana  boundary,  a  gigantic  doorway 
has  been  cleft  through  the  Rocky  Mountains— 
the  Kootenay  Pass.    In  the  mouth  of  the  Pass, 
nestling  among  the  grass-covered  foothills  like 
a  string  of  blue-green  jade  stones,  lies  a  crescent 
of  water,  delicately  slender  as  a  new  moon— the 
Kootenay  Lakes.     In  the  lakes  swim  the  gold- 
shimmered  rainbow  trout,  almost  the  size  of 
giant  salmon.     When  the  south-traveling  sun 
bends  to  its  autumn  sleep  over  the  snow-crested 
hills  to  the  west  at  eventide,  elk  and  caribou  and 
bear  and  gray  wolf  steal  down  from  the  spruce 
forests,  which  lie  like  a  velvet  mantle  on  the 
breasts  of  the  uplands  to  the  empurpled  waters 
and  drink  m  leisurely  content,  for  it  is  far  from 
the  leather-scented  trail  of  man. 

On  the  brink  of  the  middle  lake  crouches  a 
small  log  shack;  in  the  shack  homes  Kootenay 
Royd.    And  to  him  in  the  crouching  shack,  at 

32 


THE   OFFCASTING   OF   NICHEMOUS 

the  end  of  thirty^ne  years,  cams  the  thine  of 
which  no  one  spoke  that  other  time,  and  made 
this  little  story. 

The  antlered  deer  and  the  trout  with  the 
shimmer  of  the  rainbow  on  their  fatted  sides 
were  not  enough  to  Kootenay  Royd.  The  spir- 
Its  up  in  the  mountains,  always  busy  with  their 
storm-making  and  cloud-building,  gibed  at  him, 
and  whispered  at  him,  and  conned  over  in  black 
n.ght  that  other  story  which  nobody  knew,  until 
he  cinched  tight  his  broncho  saddle  on  a  piebald 
cayuse  and  rode  many  miles  nordi  to  the  land  of 
the  Lrees. 

He  tied  tl.e  cwe-necked  cayuse  to  a  tent  peg 
outs.de  of  Stone  Axe  the  Chiefs  lodge,  dipped 
through  the  lowbrowed  slit  that  served  as  door, 
and  with  much  sign  talk  conversed  with  the  red 
man  over  the  expediency  of  accepting  ten  horses 
for  his  daughter.  Weighed  against  her  personal 
charms,  a  yearling  colt  would  have  been  ^n  ex- 
orbitant  price  to  pay,  but  as  the  daughter  of  a 
Chief,  not  a  hoof  less  than  twenty  hones  would 
secure  her,  Stone  Axe  explained. 

Kootenay  had  seen  Nichemous,  the  Chief's 
daughter  once  at  Stand-off,  the  unlawful  capital 
of  the  whisky  smugglers'  domain.  But  that  was 
not  at  all  why  .e  had  come  for  her,  even  Koote- 
nay  knew  that;  she  must  have  made  medicine  to 
23 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

lure  him,  or  the  ipirit  winds  from  the  mountain, 
had  whiipered  her  name  when  he  sat  in  the  midst 
of  ^a  sohtudc  that  was  leagues  broad  on  every 

It  was  something  of  this  sort;  it  could  not 
have  been  romance,  for  she  was  ugly  dose  to 
the  point  of  fascination;  built  on  the  lines  of  a 
wheelbarrow_as  devoid  of  grace,  only  blacker, 
and  more  disconsdlately  in  evidence  forever  and 
ever. 

chief  the  value  of  twenty  horses;  there  was  an 
unseemly  tea  dance  at  which  the  apostafe  pJe- 
face  became  in  verity  a  dweUer  in  proscribed 
limits — a  squaw  man. 

Kootenay  took  her  back  with  him  to  the  lop- 
sided  shack  that  seemed  forever  threatening  to 
commit  suicide  by  a  plunge  in  the  ^rout-peopled 

Her  talk  drowned  the  voices  of  the  wind  spir- 
Its;  and  she  kept  the  shack  clean,  and  cooked  his 
ood  after  the  crude  fashion  of  her  savage  an- 
cestry. * 

Kootenay  read  the  books  that  came  from  other 
lands-Latin  and  French  and  English;  and  out- 
wardly  npened  in  the  personification  of  a  man 
who  had  never  worn  anything  but  leather  chapps 
since  the  donning  of  early  raiment. 
24 


THE   OFFCASTING   OF  NICHEMOUS 

The  Weitem  world',  knowledge  of  Kootcnav 
wa.  not  extensive;  he  wa,  "a  queer  fiT'-'a 

ferei"??""  "  ^""'^  «"'de/'  ."  an  who  in 
teripersed  Lat.n  quotation,  and  classic  oaths 

achSin  ?         "°  "*''"■  P"''"  had  ever 
acnieved  in  his  remembrance.    All  fh«.  »k- 

were  confusing  in  the  extreme;  bu  tthey  wt"  fs' 

thlilLnT^'-  ^  "!'"«  '"  ""^  »«!"«  log  shack 
that  leaned  plaintively  out  toward  the  jade-gree„ 

Tm^  I  ''""«  "™"8  "Pon  him  set  his 

S'f^oTthe'''  ""J''?'  '  ""'»  ™"  ^-i 
"lucs  rrom  the  mouth  of  thi«  Pa.,     t 

-ncsintheWestmeanslv^S^^^rb^ 
And  also  with  the  new  man  was  his  daughter 

W'thayearofageuponherforeve^S;; 
*5 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

trail  that  lay  between  their  new  log  shack  and  the 
homing  place  of  Kootenay  Royd. 

Her  name  wasn't  Helen  at  all;  but  this  is  a 
true  story.    The  culture  that  was  in  Helen  com- 
pletely  blotted  out  the  many  years  of  Kootenay's 
dwelling  in  the  catacombs,  until,  though  he  was 
actually  fifty-five,  he  was  really  just  turned  one 
score  when  he  talked  to  her.    That  was  why  it 
all  came  back  with  such  silly  force — the  love- 
thing.     The  man  that  was  fifty-five,  that  was 
Kootenay,  hunted  and  fished,  and  wandered  up 
the  steep  sides  of  Chief  Mountain  for  bighorn; 
and  came  back  tired  and  sat  dejectedly  opposite 
the  black  Cree  squaw,  and  called  her  "  Niche- 
mous,"  which  means  "  My  dear."    And  the  man 
who  was  just  turned  a  score,  that  was  Lieutenant 
Royd,  galloped  to  the  ranch  and  talked  to  Helen 
of  the  things  that  were  in  the  East;  which  are 
books  written  by  poets,  and  music  that  wails 
from  the  cord  strings  of  a  violin,  and  of  lilac 
blossoms  that  grow  purple,  or  lilies  that  stand 
pale  at  Easter,  and  of  all  the  other  unnecessary 
things  which  a  squaw  man  should  know  nothing 
about;  for  if  he  do,  and  the  squaw  become  more 
coarse  in  the  fullness  of  time,  it  is  all  apt  to  end 
in  the  uncanonized  way. 

Also  Helen  sketched  with  a  charming  disre- 
gard of  perspective  and  unnecessary  variation  of 
26 


THE   OFFCASTING   OF   NICHEMOUS 

•fc»n  the  i«,ua„  who  „!     '.'•»■  >^"""e„ 
tiling,,  c„„ldd,rr„r  *'"«"■    """i'l 

Ittle,  envied,  bboLJw  Iv»T  "1  ,*' 
much  h«™7"  ?       ""  ""''  ™"'  "Id  »"<i 

w.-tr,r"h:,T;rd„t'irh"; 

•  27 


THIRTEEN    MEN 


other  was  near.  Yes,  it  must  have  been  that:  it 
was  impossible  that  such  a  physical  rebuke  to  the 
glory  of  creation  could  feel  anything  of  love  for 
the  paleface  who  was  not  even  a  savage.  The 
gnawing  pain  must  have  been  because  of  the  cold 
and  hunger  which  was  the  heritage  of  her  people. 

The  obese  Nichemous  saw  every  little  act  in 
the  scheme  of  transformation  which  set  in  over 
the  person  of  hir  white  lord.  One  morning  the 
grizzled  locks  that  had  rested  erratically  against 
his  sloped  shoulders  for  a  decade  were  clipped 
close  to  the  roots  and  tossed  disdainfully  out 
among  the  sienna-colored  bunch  grass.  Then 
he  shaved. 

No  wonder  that  the  furtive  little  eyes  that 
were  like  the  eyes  of  a  hippopotamus  took  on 
a  lurid  heat  that  burned  back  to  the  hot  brain. 
When  he  bathed  himself,  a  new  vista  was  opened 
up  to  her  slow,  speculating  mind;  he  was  turn- 
ing wehtigo — becoming  crazy. 

An  Indian  stalks  game  with  a  silent  tongue, 
and  the  squaw  watched  much  and  said  nothing. 

The  coming  of  the  ranchman  had  been  when 
the  Chinook — which  is  the  gentle  breath  of  the 
mountains  when  they  are  not  angry — came  down 
through  the  Pass  and  kissed  the  lonesome- 
hearted  earth,  and  the  hot  lips  melted  the  late 
spring  snow  that  lay  about,  and  the  grass  came 
28 


THE    OFFCASTING   OF   NICHEMOUS 
up  green,  and  the  grouse  mated.    Then  the  sum 

and  full  of  plaintive  tragedy  '^' 

ToJe  J^'  1    '""«  P™P°^''  °^  *he  offcastL 

Together  they  rode  over  to  where  her  brothe; 

had  h.s  tepee  among  the  Blood  Indians    and 

akeUnrr''""^*^'^  '''''  Nichemous  wou  d 

go  back  to  her  people.    It  was  like  cutting 


THIRTEEN    MEN 


the  grizzled  hair,  part  of  the  metamorphosis  of 
Kootenay,  the  recrudescence  of  the  man  in  the 
living  catacombs. 

If  Kootenay 's  eyes  had  not  been  touched  with 
rose  salve,  the  strange  feeling  of  loneliness,  of 
having  wrenched  himself  from  something  that 
had  been  in  his  life,  would  have  asserted  itself 
more  strongly  as  he  rode  back  to  the  crouching 
shack  by  the  string  of  jeweled  lakes;  hut  he 
planned  fast  atihis  air  castle,  every  mirrored  wall 
of  which  reflected  a  sweet  girl  face;  and  the 
broad,  black  visage  of  the  other  grayed  down 
into  the  dead  past  until  it  became  only  something 
that  he  had  turned  his  back  upon. 

Nichemous  stood  stolidly  in  front  of  her 
brother's  lodge  watching  the  horseman  as  he 
loped  over  the  tawny  sea  of  gold-brown  prairie. 
In  the  huge  face  was  the  gravity  of  many  things; 
and  in  the  little  eyes  the  light  of  something  which 
the  slow-going  brain  had  evolved  from  the  chaos 
that  had  come  into  her  existence.  When  the 
horseman  had  become  only  a  tiny  wabbling  blur, 
she  went  into  the  lodge,  sat  down  and  smoked  a 
small  graystone  pipe  until  the  brass-ringed  bowl- 
mouth  became  hot.  At  the  end  of  three  pipes 
she  rose,  took  a  rawhide  medicine  bag  from  th? 
folds  of  a  blanket,  sat  down  again  and  crooned 
softly  to  it  a  strange  guttural,  "  Hi-yi-yi ; 
3<J 


THE   OFFCASTING   OF  NICHEMOUS 

ooh.h.h.huh-huhI"  On  the  white  side  of  the 
medicme  bag  were  two  yellow  and  red  diamonds 
and  a  figure  in  blue  like  a  spearhead;  its  bLei 
were  tasse^ed  with  coarse  threads  of  burk^ 
From  a  red  handkerchief  she  unrolled  two  cr.de 

a  man  and  woman;  ,t  was  Kootenay  and  herself 
She  pressed  the  man  figure  to  her  coa„e  Ju  i 
hps  heavly,  clumsily;  then  rolled  them  face 
to  face,  m  many  folds  of  red  cloth,  slipped  thm 
'n  the  gayly  decorated  medicine  bag  anS  hun.^ 
on  a  forked  willow  behind  the  tfpee  Sure  V 
Kootenay's  frail  castle  was  builded  in  the  air 

hid  it  r:"^-"'^^'--^-"^-"*- 

m^l7J^-  ""^1"''''°  ^'•'^  night  Nichemou, 
made  medicme  with  the  charm  bag  to  bring  back 
the  white  man  who  had  been  good  to  her  Thet 
ret.ca„y,  knewnothingoflL;sheru:;wi;ted 
It  thl  h-  .  ""T  '^''^  ""^  ^°°^  wonderingly 
.„t?h  r  ""f  '"'"  ^^'^  '^"ghed  -nd  frowned 
A  .,T.  "'  ""^  °"'y  *™"Wed  her  to  cook  a  httle 
and  fill  h.s  pipe.    And  the  medicine  that  t  s  1 

reserve  (for  N.chemous  went  not  to  her  own 
people)  and  got  into  the  muscles  of  the  wh" 
2"-  H,s  arms  twitched,  and  the  winds  from 
the  mountam  came  down  through  the  Pass  and 
31 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

screamed  at  him  through  the  chinks  in  his  log 
shack,  and  the  lapping  waters  of  the  lake  bab- 
bled strange  noises. 

It  was  the  medicine  Nichemous  made  that 
changed  all  his  plans;  that  drove  Kootenay  to 
break  a  lance  with  Fate  moons  before  he  meant 
to — that  made  him  ride  to  the  tourney  of  his 
undoing. 

At  the  offcasting  Nichemous  had  claimed  his 
pinto  riding  hdrse  as  one  of  the  twenty.  At  the 
time  Kootenay  had  not  understood  why  she  was 
so  insistent  upon  this  point,  for  he  could  not  hear 
her  whispering  to  herself,  "  I  will  keep  the  pinto 
for  when  the  paleface  comes  back."  So  he 
cinched  up  a  chestnut  broncho,  with  a  great  gap- 
ing hollow  on  its  inner  thigh  where  a  wolf  had 
sought  to  hamstring  it  as  a  two-year-old. 

As  Kootenay  loped  out  of  the  Pass,  the  medi- 
cine that  was  to  the  south  in  the  lodges  of  the 
Bloods  drew  him  to  the  wrong  trail.  For  an 
hour  he  galloped,  conscious  of  nothing  but  that 
the  air  held  the  perfume  of  lilacs  and  the  music 
of  young  laughter  and  die  presence  of  love. 
Then  the  chestnut  put  the  wolf-bitten  leg  into  a 
badger  hole  and  brought  the  dreamer  with  an 
exaggerated  flourish  down  among  the  stunted 
yellow  dandelions  and  purple  violets.  The 
man's  energetic  comments  perhaps  broke  the 
32 


THE  OFFCASTING  OF  NICHEMOUS 
spell  of  the  tiny  manikins,  for  when  he  looked 
across  the  prairie  he  saw  that  he  had  ridden 
miles  out  of  his  way. 

That  night  he  talked  to  Helen  of  things  that 
were  as  startling  as  though  Chief  Mountain  had 
slid  out  fifty  miles  into  the  plain  in  a  single  day 
"f  course,  it  only  meant  much  misery  to  the 
girJ,  for  she  had  never  thought  of  it  in  that  way 
It  was  the  rose  salve  that  had  blinded  Kootenay 
-that  was  all.    The  talk  of  flowers  and  books 
and  the  thnll  of  "  Rusticana  "  had  not  made 
this  squaw  man  of  the  old  age  a  lover  in  her 
young  eyes.    At  home  there  was  the  talk  of  cat- 
tie;  of  calves  and  cows  and  bulls;  storms  and 
grass  feed  and  beef-nothing  but  beef-less 
romance  than  there  was  in  the  medicine  bag  of 
the  squat,  black  squaw,  and  the  glamour  of  this 
almost  extmct  gentleman  had  been  pleasant  as 
triendship— only  as  friendship. 

Even  from  Kootenay  the  spell  fell  away,  and 
he,  too,  saw  himself  as  he  had  been  before  the 
coming  of  Helen. 

The  goblin  in  the  medicine  bag  laughed  as  the 
white  man  rode  the  wolf-maimed  chestnut  de- 
jectedly back  to  his  log  shack.  Nichemous 
heard  the  laugh  and  crooned  softly  her  weird 
witch  song,  and  gave  five  horses  to  the  friends 
inat  had  been  friends  to  her  brother. 
33 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

When  thirty  years  of  life  come  back  to  a  man 
in  one  day  it  is  apt  to  stoop  the  shoulders  a  little 
and  for  the  full  turn  of  a  moon  Kootenay  sat 
by  the  emerald-green  lake  like  one  who  has  been 
caressed  by  a  blizzard.  He  swept  up  the  tiny 
fragments  of  his  shattered  castle  and  threw  them 
out  against  the  wind— the  mountain  wind  diat 
ch.ded  back,  and  carried  the  tale  to  the  demon 
m  the  medicme  bag  on  the  Blood  reserve. 

Nichemous  Waited,  for  she  came  of  a  patient 
race,  and  took  the  little  manikin  from  the  raw- 
hide,  ocher-marked  bag  and  caressed  it  until  her 
bead  eyes  became  blurred  with  mists  of  joy. 

Every  night  the  medicine-bag  demon  called  to 
the  lone  paleface  and  twitched  at  his  muscles; 
and  every  day  Kootenay  drew  a  pencil  ^*-rough 
a  black-lettered  date  on  a  calendar  that  hung 
just  over  the  table  where  he  had  sat  so  many 
times  opposite  the  Cree  woman  who  was  Ni- 
chemous. 

The  effacing  of  the  other  time  had  been  thirty 
years;  surely  now  he  would  wait  thirty  days  and 
dnnk  of  the  wormwood  tonic  which  was  hope- 
less  resignation. 

Sometimes  he  laughed  bitterly  at  the  utter 
foolishness  of  the  thing  that  had  come  to  him. 
Living  at  the  foot  of  Chief  Mountain  and  seeing 
only  blinking  elk  eyes,  o     '       ' 


34 


!  pig  eyes  of  a  griz- 


THE   OFFCASTING   OF   NICHEMOUS 
zyy,  had  strangely  tortured  his  knowledge  of  the 
e  crnal  fitness  of  things;  but  Helen's  qufet,  kind 
RU.t.ve  words  :.d  shown  hi.  how  p'articrrj 

adv"nt  ^°"  *"  ^"^  ''""  »'"«  h« 

Small  wonder  he  sat  for  thirty  days  and 
scored  h.n,self  with  a  rare  inventivTgen  us  bo- 
of  h.s  excted  condition.  Sometimes  it  was  w^tT 
a  levty  that  was  all  awry;  sor.^.imes  it  was^he 
hollow  despair  of  a  man  who  counts  the  d  y 

t  s  ha„7    "  '^'kT'"^  °"*  ^°^  «-«t  flower, 
h.s  hand  came  back  laden  with  nothing  bu 

tcSytoir  """^^-^-''^ "— -^ 

When  he  had  penciled  out  thirty  days  of  sit 

heaw  teH  '"'"  *°  '•'^  '"'^^^  ^here  the 

Neither  this  time  did  the  red  and  yellow  eves 
show  any  surprise.  She  knew;  it  was  as  the 
demon  had  said  it  would  be. 

lefflnn'  ^T"^'  ^'^  «'^^"  '''««  were  ten 
eft,  and  m  three  days  they  were  eating  grass  in 
the  shadow  of  Chief  Mountain;  and  kIZ" 
was  once  more  just  a  squaw  man,  deep  in  the  ter^ 
nble  pathos  of  what  might  have  been. 
35 


THE   HOME-COMING 
NAKANNIES 


OF   THE 


IF  you  travel  into  the  northwest  comer  of 
Canada,  close  under  the  shoulder  of  the 
Rockies,  and  ask  a  Sicanee  Indian  about 
the  Nakannies,  he  will  fill  his  pipe  and  smoke, 
and  talk  about  anything  in  the  world  but  these 
people.  By  lavish  expenditure  of  tobacco  and 
other  things  of  rare  value,  and  by  persistently 
pinning  him  down  to  the  business  in  hand, 
you  may  get  him  to  talk  of  them.  He  will  tell 
you  that  they  are  bad-spirit  Indians;  that  they 
always  hear  when  they  are  talked  about,  but  are 
never  seen. 

If  two  Indians  go  out  after  moose  and  never 
come  back,  the  solution  is  simple — they  are  with 
the  Nakannies.  If  a  family  start  at  grandfather 
and  die  off  until  even  the  last  papoose,  swathed 
and  laced  tight  in  its  moss  bag,  is  gone,  that  is 
the  work  of  the  Nakannies. 

That  is  the  belief  of  the  other  tribes;  but  the 
white  trappers  say  that  this  tribe  lives  up  in  the 
gorges  of  the  Rockies,  and  is  tough — very  tough. 
36 


HOME-COMING   OF   NAKANNIES 

All  agree,  red.  white,  and  "  pinto."  that  the  Na- 

theT.r'?h°""  '"  '^'  ""''-"''y  """^h  i" 
theflesh.    That  was  as  I  am  going  to  tell  you. 

Many  moons  ago  they  lived  in  the  foothills 

o  the  Rock.es  just  at  the  great  cut  in  the  granite 

chff,  where  the  chmook  wind  comes  smiling 

through  and  kisses  the  babe  snow  into  non-ex- 

istencc.    That  time  no  iron  horse  tore  through 

the  a^ure-draped  portal,  of  the  castle  mountain,; 

there  were  only  the  soft  chinook  and  odd  parties 

°JJT"1  "^^'•'^r'"'  "  **"y  *"'d  each 
other  back  and  forth  through  the  big  gate 

The  land  of  the  Nakannie,  ran  to  the  very 
edge  of  the  stone  rampart.  They  hunted  the 
grizzly  up  to  h.s  rocky  home  and  slew  him;  they 
ran  the  buffalo  on  the  herb-turfed  plain,  and  their 
tepee,,  built  from  the  skins  of  the  slain  bison, 
stood  gorgeous  white  in  the  autumn  sun.  They 
were  not  stock  raisers;  when  they  needed  ponies 
they  stole  them.  It  wasn't  really  ,tealing-the 
pome,  were  the  ,poil,  of  war;  al«,  the  scalp,  of 
the  Blackfoot,  that  came  home  with  the  horse- 
hunting  braves. 

War  Cloud  was  the  chief.    He  had  two  son,. 

tagle  Strength,  the  elder,  and  Day  Child.  Their 

spiritual  life  wa,  looked  after  by  Wolverine,  a 

medicine  m.in. 

Then  one  day  Father  Descoign  came  among 

37 


I     E 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

them.  It  was  almost  as  thbugh  he  had  dropped 
from  heaven.  Of  a  verity  he  simply  came 
among  them.  War  Cloud  gave  him  a  tepee,  and 
told  the  young  bucks  not  to  molest  the  paleface 
Med.cme  Man  If  they  were  spoiling  for  excite- 
men  they  could  go  out  and  cut  the  throats  of  the 
Blackfoot,  or  go  higher  up  in  the  mountains  a  bit 
and  fight  Stonies. 

Now  the  Nakannies  were  about  as  unarable  a 
block  of  theological  land  as  one  could  well  look 
for,  but  that  did  not  matter  to  Pire  Descoign 
The  pnests  were' all  like  that;  they  came  and 
hammered  away  at  the  unbelief  of  the  pagan 
tribes  until  some  one  believed;  then  they  kept  on. 
and  by  and  by  others  had  faith. 

The  first  to  listen  to  the  priest  was  Day  Child, 
rhe  father  taught  him  French  and  die  Christian 
religion. 

Above  all,  the  Indian  has  a  simple  directness 
of  thought  wh.ch  gets  very  close  to  the  root  of 
thmgs.    The  good  fadier  taught  Day  Child  that 
the  Manitou  of  the  paleface  was  all-powerful, 
and  that  men  who  sold  themselves  to  the  Evil 
One  were  sure  to  suffer  in  the  end.    The  simple- 
ness  of  that  appealed  to  the  primitive  mind  of 
the  young  Nakannie,  and  the  longer  he  thought 
over  It  the  more  certain  he  became  that  it  was 
a  very  unpolitic  thing  to  have  anything  to  do 
38 


HOME-COMING   OF   NAKANNIES 

with  the  devil.  Many  time,  he  filled  the  red 
•tone  bowl  of  his  pipe  and  emptied  it  over  this 
untortuoui  problem  before  he  cryitallized  hit 
Ideas  m   .ords. 

At  la.t  Day  Child  spoke:  "  Your  Manitou  i, 
chief  over  all  the  spirits,  even  as  War  Cloud  is 
great  among  Indians.     Is  not  that  so,   Pale- 

"  It  is  true,"  asserted  the  priest  laconically. 
He  IS  greater  than  the  Evil  Spirit  you  have 
told  Day  Child  about  ?  " 

"I  have  spoken  that  it  is  so,"  answered 
rather  Descoign. 

"And  the  foolish  braves  you  have  told  me 
of,  who  made  treaty  with  this  devil,  will  not  go 
to  the  Happy  Hunting  Ground  at  all  ?  " 

''  Day  Child's  words  are  true,"  the  priest  said. 
Ihen  I  will  make  treaty  with  God,  who  is 
your  Manitou,"  said  Day  Child  decisively,  hold- 
ing  out  his  hand  to  the  white  man  as  earnest  of 
his  intention.    "The  Evil  Spirit  appeared  to 
those  foolish  white  men  and  made  treaty  with 
them;  is  that  not  so.  Paleface?  " 
The  father  nodded  his  head  in  acquiescence. 
Then  call  your  Manitou  to  appear  and  make 
treaty  with  Day  Child,  that  I  and  my  tribe  may 
be  at  peace  with  this  great  Spirit  Chief,  your 
Manitou."  ' 

39 


I 


w 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

Now  all  this  was  rather  startling  to  the  good 
father  and  he  realized  that  the  air  was,  so  to 
speak,  full  of  great  things.  Either  the  faith  of 
this  young  warrior  must  be  held  or  his  hope  for 
good  harvest  in  that  field  be  forever  abandoned. 
Bravery  and  diplomacy  go  hand  in  hand  in  the 
Christian  crusade  against  the  gods  of  the  pagan 
Indians,  so  Father  Descoign  answered: 

"  I  will  ask  my  Master  to  speak  to  Day  Child, 
whose  heart  is  inclined  toward  Him." 

That  night  Father  Descoign  said  to  the  young 
Indian :  "  To-morrow  night  the  God  of  the  pale- 
faces,  who  is  also  the  God  of  the  red  man,  will 
speak  to  Day  Child  where  the  river  bursts 
through  the  hills  and  falls  over  the  rocks." 

All  that  night  the  brave  priest  prayed  forgive- 
ness  for  the  deed  he  was  about  to  do.  It  was  for 
the  good  of  these  poor  people  that  he  would  im- 
personate  his  Master  for  a  little  time. 

The  next  night  Day  Child  saw  God,  even  as 
the  priest  had  said  he  would.  The  young  son  of 
the  chief  and  two  Nakannies  crouched  silently 
beside  the  waterfall  and  waited  for  the  paleface 
Manitou. 

All  the  little  tricks  the  reverend  father  knew 
—the  luminosity  of  sulphurous  matches  damped 
and  rubbed  on  the  face,  and  all  the  rest  of  it- 
he  practiced.    It  was  a  clumsy  enough  represen- 
40 


HOME-COMING   OF  NAKANNIES 
tation,  but  it  succeeded;  and  Day  Child  made 
treaty  with  the  Great  Spirit,  who'told  hL  ^a 

finrghiir^"^'^^^-™--^'- 

.    From  that  time  on  Day  Child  and  his  ever- 
mcreasmg  following  prospered.     They  ceased 
ITa  Z"  '."'^   '""'"■°"   horse-stealings   and 
It  J..'  -'^hildishly  enough  at  firsf-and 
whlh  K  /     uT'*^  P™^P^™"^  '■"  the  land 
Tatttelf "  '-'  ''""  '^'  -  --'•-«'"« 
A  blood  fury  was  growing  on  Wolverine;  his 
power  was  gradually  becoming  less.    His  medi- 
cne  sometimes  worked  success  for  the  braves 

wtrdtr:'"-'^'''^"'^^^^''-^-^- 

.nH?"''"!,''  ^^"^  *^'^  ^'"'  ^°«h  to  battle, 
and  h.s  medicme  had  said  the  foray  would  be 
uccessfPl,  they  came  home  very  much  the  wol 
fo  wear  and  considerably  battered-some  did 
not  even  come  at  all.  But  the  priest's  medicine 
wh.ch  was  God's  law,  worked  for  good  £Z' 
and  Day  Child's  band  prospered.  ^' 

Then  Wolverine  ■;vorked  his  charms  and  had 

strtr*    i  """'  *"  ^'^  ^'"■''^  -""J'l  become 
stronger  and  stronger  because  of  the  evil  cunning 

of  .he  pnest;  and.  in  the  end,  War  Cloud  and 

Eagle  Strength  would  have  to  sit  like  squaws  in 

41 


I' 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

the  council,  silent,  when  Day  Child,  wf  -    irould 
then  be  chief,  spoke. 

He  roused  the  fury  of  the  Nakannies  by  say- 
ing  that  they  would  all  become  squaws.  What 
would  it  profit  them  if  they  were  prosperous  and 
worked  like  women  in  the  field?  The  Blackfoot 
braves  to  the  east  of  them,  the  Peigans  to  the 
south,  the  Stonies  who  were  in  the  west,  and  the 
Crees  who  crouched  among  the  spruce  and  aspen 
in  the  north  would  close  in  on  them  if  they  were 
not  warriors,  and  take  all  they  had— even  their 
scalps  and  their  women. 

What  need  had  they  to  work  like  squaws — 
there  were  buffaloes  to  kill  for  meat,  and  their 
enemies  had  horses  to  give  for  the  asking?  What 
more  did  they  want?  They  had  fire  and  food 
and  skins  for  their  lodges  and  a  great  name  as 
warriors  among  the  fighting  people  of  that  land. 
Would  they  trade  all  these  comforts  and  all  this 
glory  for  squaw  valor,  and  toil  and  slave  like 
pack  dogs?  Would  they  be  like  this,  or  would 
they  be  braves? 

Day  Child  and  the  priest  had  right  on  their 
side;  but  they  were  terribly  handicapped  because 
of  the  labor  their  policy  entailed.  Work  will 
weigh  down  all  the  things  of  this  world  in  the 
scale  of  an  Indian's  calculation.  The  priest's 
policy  meant  labor;  Wolverine's,  the  traditional 
42 


HOME-COMING  OF  NAkANNIES 
'  good  s«„,  ,h.„fa  ,„  hi,  dn,m.dc  eiL    t^ 

-d  Day  cIJS's  band  r^cT^^^^^^^  ""'  "''"'' 
the  Icnif-     V        L      '      "^  "**  •'rave,  put  to 

Moons  came  and  wen*-    ,„j 
themselves  into  a  dLde  '    d  v/''!?."""*^''^ 
called  over  the  t  Jl  of  mj^ty^^L^"!'  "" 

Wnt^,  a,on«  which  heCVhltt'soT 

k^i  dTCTimt";.  "i^  ^"  p^"^  -» 

Ground    and^,  *'  "''PP^  ""«'"« 

FooSwaskft^o  rr'  ^'"  P"*  ''"''^•^  him 
was  lefr  «\1  !  V°"«  J°""''y'  »nd  his  lodge 

was  left  standing  and  untenanted.  ^ 

Then  Wolverine  spoke  to  the  tribe- 
*  43 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


r' 


"  Brothers,  behold  I  am  Wolverine  I  When 
I  sleep  Manitou  comes  and  whispers  that  which 
is  good  for  the  Nakannies.  Who  told  you  that 
your  Chief,  War  Cloud,  would  be  called  to  the 
Happy  Hunting  Ground  in  two  moons?  Was 
not  that  Wolverine,  who  stands  before  you  ? 

"  When  I  make  my  medicine  and  blow  it  out 
upon  the  other  tribes  they  become  as  children  in 
their  fear  of  you  who  are  my  braves.  Who 
worked  the  medicine  which  brought  the  pitted 
disease  that  ate  "into  the  flesh  of  the  Blackfoot 
ur:ti  1  they  died  like  scourged  rabbits  ?  Was  that 
n.:'.  Wolverine — and  was  it  not  because  they 
came  in  the  night  and  stole  the  daughter  of  our 
great  chief  who  has  now  gone  to  the  Happy 
Hunting  Ground?  When  I  made  medicine  the 
Nakannie  braves  went  forth  and  laughed  at  the 
arrows  of  the  Blackfoot  and  Stonies,  and  brought 
back  war  ponies  and  scalps  and  glory  to  the 
lodges  of  our  tribe. 

"  It  was  I,  Wolverine,  wlio  knew,  because  of 
my  medicine,  that  trouble  would  come  to  you 
through  the  little  paleface  priest,  who  spoke  with 
the  forked  tongue  of  a  false  Manitou.  But  the 
Chief,  War  Cloud,  who  is  now  dead,  had  a  good 
heart,  and  said,  '  Let  the  little  paleface  rest  in 
the  lodges  of  the  Nakannies.'  And  for  days 
Wolverine  had  evil  dreams  because  of  that. 


HOME-COMING   OF  NAKANNIES 

became  squaws  also;  they  tr  ded  their  warho'e" 
wJo  arf  nT  """'  '''"«'''='^'  '""^  *<=  Stonies 

5.";  tiS  w4'\";r/a'"  "^'^-  ^' 
sltStaiarh^H-r^^ 

45 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

brothers,  Eagle  Strength,  the  son  of  War  Cloud, 
is  chief,  and  his  heart  thirsts  for  the  land  where 
he  was  bom — where  the  buffaloes  crowd  the 
grass  plains  like  clouds  in  the  sky,  and  their  fat 
will  warm  us  and  their  skins  keep  us  from  the 
cold  winds.  Wolverine  has  made  medicine,  and 
knows  that  there  are  no  redcoats  there ;  and  that 
the  spirits  of  Day  Child  and  his  squaw  brothers 
have  gone  to  the  Happy  Hunting  Ground. 

"  We  will  go  back  to  our  home  prairies,  and 
Wolverine  will  drive  the  spirits  of  the  dead 
away,  and  you,  my  braves,  will  fight  the  Black- 
foot  and  the  Stonies,  and  conquer  because  of  the 
medicine  of  Wolverine.  Are  we  rabbits  to  skulk 
here  among  the  stones  because  we  have  killed  the 
squaw  men  of  the  fork-tongued  priest?  Wol- 
verine has  spoken." 

When  the  Medicine  Man  sat  down  there  was 
deep  silence  in  the  little  valley  in  which  they 
lived;  for  the  awe  of  the  home-going  had  stolen 
over  the  spirits  of  the  Nakannies. 

Then  Eagle  Strength  rose,  tall  and  stately, 
every  inch  a  warrior,  and  stiffening  his  bronze 
body,  threw  back  his  head,  and  from  his  power- 
ful throat  came,  like  the  note  of  a  bugle,  the 
joyous  battle  cry,  full  of  defiance  and  eagerness 
and  resolve.  Every  brave  took  it  up,  until  the 
mountain  side  rang  with  the  wolflike  cry  of  hun- 
46 


HOME-COMING   OF  NAKANNIES 
drcds  of  fierce  voices.     In  their  souls  was  that 

and   that  hngered  hke  a  memoir  of  Paradise 
to  these  outcast  red  men. 

It  bJt  ^°'^^r  "  '"«^'""«.  had  told  them  to 
go  back  where  the  grass  was  rich  a-     sweet  for 

thronged  the  plam;  and  there  were  enemies  to 
fight  m  the  open,  and  scalps  and  ponies  to  get  by 
conquest.  Small  wonder  that  their  hearts^ried 
out  m  joy,  and  they  looked  upon  Eagle  Strength 
.nthehghtof  a  deliverer!  If  WolvfrineW 
cme  kept  the  sp.rits  of  their  murdered  brother 

fn Tar      '  ''"  "°    ^"^  ''"  °^  ""^''^  '^'^  «°°d 

I.W  1"  "/« the  sun  peeped  down  into  the  Val- 

it'ed? A  "'?/'"•  "''*="  '^'  Nakannies  had 
Wed  and  hunted  for  years,  there  was  nothing  but 
a  few  smoldenng  camp  fires,  a  myriad  of  bare 
tepee  poles,  the  empty  lodge  of  Ae  dead  chief, 
and  the  grave  in  which  he  slept. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  twentieth  day  of  their 
Pjgnmage  back  to  the  land  of  their'natv.^ 
Wolvenne  sa^d:  "Spell  here,  brothers,  for  i^ 
are  clo!u>  tn  tU.  i-_j  —l-  •   •  '         ""^ 


arc  close  to  the  land  which 


47 


is  ours.    The  smell 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

of  the  sweet  grass  is  in  Wolverine's  nostrils,  and 
the  soft  pad  of  the  buffalo  hoofs  on  the  prairie 
run  is  in  his  ears.  To-night  when  the  hills  rise 
between  us  and  the  sun  we  will  go  forward  to  the 
home  that  is  ours;  then  in  the  morning,  when 
Manitou  sends  the  sun  up  in  the  east,  it  will  find 
us  there." 

A  Medicine  Man  has  two  qualifications,  po- 
etry and  diplomacy,,  and  Wolverine  had  played  a 
strong  hand  in  his  last  address.  It  would  be 
better  to  get  there  in  the  night,  because  if  there 
were  objections  to  their  coming  there  might  also 
be  objections  to  their  going  away.  Wolverine 
would  take  the  lay  of  the  land  in  the  dark,  so  to 
speak.  That  was  the  utility  of  the  diplomacy; 
the  poetry  was  for  the  Indians,  and  saved  dis- 
cussion. 

When  darkness  h-d  crept  across  the  tangled 
mass  of  rosebush  and  sweet  grass,  and  the  yel- 
low-faced Gaillardias  of  the  plain,  and  chased 
the  dying  sun  up  the  gray  of  the  foothills,  and 
across  the  splashing  crystals  of  the  Bow  River, 
and  draped  the  tawny  forms  of  the  Nakannies 
in  its  sombemess.  Wolverine  spoke  to  Eagle 
Strength,  and  the  tribe  moved  down  the  sloping 
approaches  to  the  Rockies,  and  stole  silently,  like 
spirit  shadows,  across  the  prairie. 

In  each  breast  was  the  smothered  joy  of  home- 
48 


HOME-COMING   OF  NAKANNIES 

coming;  in  each  heart  the  pagan  fear  of  the  spir- 
its of  their  murdered  relatives.  Even  the  dogs 
trailed  their  tails,  and  with  flapping  lips  skulked 
close  to  the  heels  of  the  silent  squaws.  Not  a 
babe  prattled.  The  flower  carpet  of  the  flattened 
earth  mufiled  the  hoof  beats  of  the  soft-stepping 
horses  as  the  spectral  troop  slid  through  the  thick 
gloom.  It  was  the  blood  fear  that  was  over  all 
— the  spirit  terror. 

In  front  Wolverine  rode  his  gray  horse 
straight  as  an  arrow  for  the  old  camping  home 
of  the  Nakannies.  Even  the  horse,  which  was  a 
sucking  colt  when  the  Indians  lied  from  the  fear 
of  the  redcoats,  held  his  nose  true  to  the  point, 
as  the  mariner's  needle  cleaves  to  the  north. 
Wolverine  clasped  the  little  medicine  bag  that 
dangled  from  his  neck.  Over  and  over  he  whis- 
pered a  charm  to  ward  off  the  spirit  vengeance  of 
Day  Child.  Once  he  turned  on  his  horse  and 
looked  up  at  the  Indian's  clock— the  star-jeweled 
"  dipper."  The  gleaming  hand,  circling  round 
the  North  Star,  had  moved  three  hours  since 
they  rested.  They  were  halfway  there,  he  whis- 
pered to  Eagle  Strength  in  a  hushed  voice.  The 
chief  leaned  far  over  the  neck  of  his  horse  to 
catch  what  Wolverine  said.  The  muffled  hol- 
lowness  of  the  voice  had  been  lost  in  the  slipping 
of  the  hoofs  in  the  dry  grass. 

49 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

"Halfway,"  whispered  Wolverine  again; 
and  Eagle  Strength  tat  bolt  upright  and  held 
his  small  bead  eyes  straight  forward  into  the 
gloom. 

When  the  dipper  had  cut  three  hours  more 
from  its  circle  path,  and  stood  almost  straight 
over  the  North  Star,  Wolverine  stopped  his 
horse  and  slid  to  the  ground.  The  others  closed 
around  him  silently,  like  soldiers  forming  up 
before  a  stockade  that  is  to  be  assaulted  at  day- 
break.  A  little  to  the  right  the  daric  line  of  the 
earth  rounded  against  the  purple  of  the  sky. 
The  Medicine  Man  was  standing  with  his  face 
set  against  the  mound.  Eagle  Strength  and  the 
others  knew  what  that  meant— on  that  hill  Day 
Child  and  his  band  had  made  their  last  stand; 
and  on  its  top,  unburied,  they  had  been  left  for 
wolf  and  vulture. 

"  Hobble  the  ponies  and  sleep  here,"  whis- 
percd  the  Medicine  Man  hoarsely. 

The  night  air  was  thick  with  stillness.  Wol- 
verine  ran  his  hand  over  the  flank  of  his  horse; 
the  gray  was  trembling,  and  his  ears  were  twitch- 
ing nervously  back  and  forth— now  cocking  for- 
ward in  nervous  curi  ity,  now  drooping  back  in 
irritable  weariness.  Wolverine  knew— even  the 
horses  were  afraid. 
A  low,  trembling  whimper  cut  through  the 
50 


HOME-COMING   OF  NAKANNIES 
night  like  a  whittling  arrow  from  the  top  of  the 

weird  call  .truck  on  their  shrinking  ears;  a  pack 
of  coyote,  had  winded  them.  Apon-broke 
-ay   .n   affright   and  nearly   ttam'^jed  t 

Wolverine     tteadied    himself,     and    spoke 
sharply:  "  Nakannies,  are  you  al  squaw,  Tie 
your  horse,  get  away  ?  "  •S"»w,  ro  let 

Before  any  horse  could  be  hobbled,  a  dull, 
rumbhng  moan  came  creeping  through  the  graw 
and  hushed  the  whimper  of  the  wolves.    It  S 

away  as  suddenly  as  ,t  began.    The  Medicine 

Aga  n  he  heard  .t.    It  was  like  the  roar  of  angS 

and  then  there  wa,  ,ilence.     Again  it  came 
onger  and  louder  thi,  tin.e.    Th->  ^.L  prf  kTd 

voice  of  an  angry  ,p,nt,  always  growing  louder 

»'rd     made  when  Manitou  was  anerv     Th^ 

f«r  that  had  been  silent  in  the  heam  ofTL 

51 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


bravei  began  to  mutter — they  whispered  to  each 
other:  "That  it  Day  Child'i  band  crying  for 
blood  I" 

Wolverine'i  gray  anorted  and  tossed  his  head 
impatiently  from  side  to  side,  and  rubbed  his 
nose  forcibly  against  the  Medicine  Man's  breast. 
Eagle  Strength  stood  silently  watching  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  spirit  noises.  A  dull,  muttering 
Tumble,  breaking  into  a  fierce,  threatening  call, 
startled  them  again,  and  a  fiery  eye  glared  at 
them  from  high  u^  in  the  hills.  Nastas,  Eagle 
Strength's  mother,  screamed  and  sank  in  a  broken 
heap  at  the  feet  of  the  young  chief. 

The  eye  closed  sullenly,  the  roar  deadened, 
and  there  was  only  the  muffled  sound  of  some- 
thing gliding  through  the  gloom  toward  them. 
Then  again  it  broke  forth  with  malignant  fury, 
shooting  its  rays  in  long  shafts  out  into  the  daric- 
ness  of  the  plain.  It  closed  again,  only  to  scorch 
theii  hearts  nearer  and  fiercer  the  next  second. 
No  one  spoke  now;  fear  took  them  by  the  throat 
and  paralyzed  their  tongues.  They  could  see 
little  bright  flashes  of  light  glinting  from  the 
scales  of  the  huge  monster  all  along  its  body  as 
it  rushed  screaming  and  hissing  down  through 
the  gateway  of  the  hills.  Back  on  its  tail  were 
two  little  green  eyes  that  fascinated  Wolverine. 
It  was  the  angry  God  of  the  murdered  priest — 
52 


HOME-COMING   OF   NAKANNIES 

the   dctroying   Manitou   he  had   said  would 
•urely  punish  them  for  the  killing  of  men. 

Fear  and  anger  fought  in  the  blood  of  Eagle 
^trength.     He  had  been  a  child— a  fool.    He 
had  listened  to  the  words  of  Wolverine  and 
ilam  his  blood  brothers,  the  Nakannies,  because 
they  believed  in  this  God— the  God  of  the  pale- 
face pnest.    He  could  see  little  green  and  red 
eyes  peering  at  him  from  the  darkness  far  in 
advance  of  the  dragon  god  with  the  monstrous 
eye.    They  were  lesser  spirits  coming  to  devour 
his  people  because  of  the  sin  the  false  Medicine 
Man,   Wolverine,   had  led  them  into.      The 
dragon  might  destroy  his  people,  but  his  hand 
would  avenge  their  blood  upon  Wolverine.   The 
huge,  trailing,  fire-vomiting  dragon  was  close 
upon  them,  when,  with  a  scream  of  defiance  and 
barbanc  triumph,  he  plunged  his  knife  to  the 
hilt  in  the  Medicine  Man's  breast. 

This  act  roused  the  others.  "  Come,  broth- 
ers,  cned  Eagle  Strength,  "we'll  go  back  to 
our  home  on  the  Little  Bear,"  and  throwing  him- 
self on  his  horse,  he  yelled  a  war  song  and  lashed 
his  horse  across  the  flanks. 

As  the  tribe  streamed  over  the  plains  to  escape, 

the  fire-belching  monster  circled  in  toward  them, 

and  the  hot  breath  from  his  evil-smelling  body 

smote  upon  the  nostrils  of  Eagle  Strength  as  he 

53 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

lashed  the  last  Nakannie  across  the  iron  path, 
under  the  very  nose  of  the  demon.  Then  they 
melted  silently  info  the  darkness  of  the  long, 
back  trail. 

Over  on  the  dragon  there  was  a  screeching, 
hissing,  grinding,  as  the  feet  of  the  monster 
gripped  the  iron  of  the  gravel-packed  trail  and 
strove  to  stop  its  headlong  charge.  Passengers 
stood  on  their  heads  in  the  seats  in  front  of  their 
own,  and  cursed  and  prayed,  each  according  to 
his  readiness  of  habit.  A  short  man  in  a  blue 
coat,  all  spangled  with  brass  buttons,  slid  from 
the  side  of  the  dragon  and  ran  forward  to  it? 
head,  with  a  loose,  blinking  eye  under  his  arm. 

"  What  in  blazes  did  you  put  on  the  '  emer- 
gency' for,  Dick?"  he  screamed  into  the  sul- 
phurous jaws  of  the  thing's  head. 

"  Thought  I  was  ninnin'  into  a  pack  of  fool 
Injuns,"  grunted  a  voice  thick  with  the  fullness 
of  stopping  a  heavy  express  on  a  down  grade. 
And  a  burly  demon  came  out  of  the  white,  hot 
mouth  and  stood  wiping  his  brow. 

"  Did  you  see  'em,  Dick?  "  panted  the  little 
rian. 

"  Seed  a  swarm  of  'em,  an'  heerd  'em  scream. 
An'  the  President,  ol'  Van  Home,  'd  rather 
wreck  the  best  engine  on  the  road  than  have  a 
greasy  '  nichie  *  killed." 
54 


HOME-COMING   OF  NAKANNIES 

"  It's  them  spirits  the  fellows  say  are  always 
about  this  ol'  camping  ground  where  they  foj  ,d 
a  lot  of  dead  Injuns  when  they  were  building 
the  line.    I  guess  that's  what  you  saw,  Dick." 

"Spirits  be  hanged!  They  was  cavortin' 
about  on  the  track  'tween  the  rails  on  their  saw- 
horse  bronchos,  an'  I  slid  right  in  among  'era. 
It  8  a  miracle  if  I  hain't  killed  none." 

"I  guess  it's  all  right,  Dick— I  hope  we 
haven't  killed  any  passengers,"  said  the  con- 
ductor,  unshipping  the  eye  from  his  arm.  "  All 
aboard  1 " 

The  little  lantern  described  a  circle  in  the  air, 
the  monster  tore  at  the  iron  trail  with  his  huge 
feet,  the  lights  slid  off  and  were  swallowed  up 
m  the  gloom  of  the  prairie  night,  and  the  home- 
coming  of  the  Nakannies  had  been  disrupted  by 
the  Pacific  Express. 


SS 


THE   "MISLED"   COLLIE 

ONE  evening  in  September  a  "  Misle  "- 
coated  collie  stood  watching  the  door 
of  the  Red  Lion  Inn. 
Her  attitude  was  one  of  pathetic  expectancy 
—the  beautiful,  slim-tapered  head  cocked  side- 
ways, and  ears  thrust  forward  from  the  heavy 
neck-ruff,  vibrant  -with  the  intensity  of  her  inter- 
pretation of  footsteps. 

Suddenly  the  dog's  frame  stiffened  with  joy. 
ous  anticipation;  there  was  the  shuffle  of  many 
feet;  the  swinging  door  pushed  outward;  and 
four  men  in  working  garb  issued  boisterously  to 
the  sidewalk. 

The  collie  leaped  joyously  at  her  master  with 
a  yelp  of  delight,  caressing  his  rough  hand  with 
her  tongue. 

"There,  there,  girl— down  I  "  the  man  said, 
•hoving  her  gently  away. 

"  But,  Watson,  you're  an  old  rascal,"  one  of 
the  jovial  four  ejaculated,  clutching  Watson's 
arm  and  twisting  him  playfully  about. 

Suddenly  a  mottled  body  with  hair  bristling 
sprang  between  the  two;  there  was  a  gleam  of 
56 


THE   "MISLED"   COLLIE 

white  teeth,  an  ominous  snarl,  and  a  pair  of 
weird  wall-eyes,  fierce  in  anger,  glared  at  the 
maker  of  the  horseplay. 

J'^iT^  °"*'  P"'  '''^*=  «  carel-down,  girl  I 
She  d  bite  you  in  a  jiffy,  man,"  Watson  cried  in 
broken  sentences. 
Bob's  assailant  released  his  hold,  and  jumped 

Sf;coi;ir''°°'°^^'^™--^°-»« 

.'.'\'"  f^y  I'"  of  you.  Bob,"  he  said. 
^^J.llyou,now?    How  much  will  you  give, 

"  Ten  dollars." 

"  Not  for  a  thousand,  Dannie,  my  boy.  I'd 
sell  a  wifie  first-if  I  had  one.  Ten  dollars  for 
Sracathna  Princess  I  Man,  I've  been  offered 
ntty;  yon's  a  bench  bitch." 
^^  Then  turning  to  another  of  the  group,  he  said : 
Come  on,  Murray.  I'll  go  a  bit  of  the  road 
with  you. 

Watson  walked  in  silence  beside  his  friend,  the 
collie  at  their  heels. 

H  '^?"'.%  '™""'"'  y°"'  Bob  -  you're 
dumpy  ?  Murray  asked  at  the  end  of  the  block 
I  was  thinkin'  of  Dan's  ten  dollars.  But  I 
couldn't  sell  the  doggie-my  heart.  I  couldn't 
fell  her,  Jock.  Could  I,  girl?  "  he  asked,  turn- 
mg  to  stroke  the  collie's  head, 
57 


THIRTEEN  MEN 

"  D'you  sec  the  answer  in  her  eye,  man- 
she's  sayin'  as  plain  as  anything,  *No,  you 
could  na.' " 

"  She's  a  wise  dog,  Bob;  she's  almost  human. 
But  what  is  it  about  the  ten  dollars?  " 

"  I  have  a  chance  of  a  job  at  Buffalo.  I've 
been  on  the  shelf  since  the  foundry  closed  down, 
an'  I  haven't  the  price  o'  a  ticket." 

Murray  pondered  over  this  problem  for  a 
little,  his  hand  clutching  a  slim  roll  of  bills  in 
his  breeches'  pocket — the  week's  wage.  The 
money  was  needediat  home — badly ;  but  Watson 
would  have  helped  him  with  his  last  dollar — 
he  knew  that. 

With  an  impetuous  movement,  Murray 
crushed  the  bills  into  his  friend's  hand,  saying, 
"  Here's  ten  dollars  for  you.  Bob." 

But  the  other  drew  back,  protesting :  "  You're 
needin'  it  yourself,  Jock." 

For  answer  Murray  shoved  the  money  into 
Bob's  vest  pocket,  and  turned  away. 

"  I'll  not  borrow  it,  Jock,"  Watson  said,  "  but 
I'll  take  it  if  you'll  keep  the  collie." 

"  I  don't  want  the  dog." 

"  Keep  her,  man;  and  when  I'm  in  funds  I'll 

buy  her  back.    If  anything  happens  me,  die's 

yours;  and  don't  you  see,  Jock,  you  could  get 

your  own  back,  and  I'd  die,  as  I  lived,  owin'  no 

58 


THE   "MISLED"   COLLIE 

tne  old  girl  for  all  time." 

Hnh.^n':'!!  V"  *"""  '^^^"^  Scotch  way, 

?er  o  i    f  ^""i^'  ^""''^  ^'''"  "-»  with 
her  to  the  house  and  have  a  bite  of  supper  " 

In  ten  minutes  the  two  friends  came  to  a  little 

rough-cast  cottage  setting  back  from  the  street. 

I  ye  brought  Watson  home  for  supper,  Mar- 

Sd  h      "\"l'  '°  ^'•^  ""  «  who 
greeted  him  at  the  door. 

Murray  ate  his  simple  meal  in  troubled  silence. 
How  could  he  reconcile  his  wife  to  the  receipt  of 
a  dog  mstead  of  the  needed  money ! 

to  Rf?r''v *'*"'''"•  '''"''^=  "Bob's  going 
to^Buffalo,  w.fe,  an'  I've  bought  the  collie  from 

Margaret's  face  mirrored  her  dismay.  It  was 
just  this  careless  improvidence  that  frittered 
away  Jack's  earnings. 

"  Are  you  no  likin'  dogs?  "  Watson  said,  for 
Margaret  s  silence  brought  an  ominous  lull  in  the 

"  ]  ^''Y"'y  hands  full  with  baby;  besides-" 
slK  closed  her  teeth  on  the  lower  lip  and  turned 

"The  collie'll  take  care  of  baby  for  you. 
She  s  a  gran'  hand  wi'  children." 
This  was  a  most  barefaced  assertion,  for  Bob 
'  59 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

was  a  bachelor  and  children  had  not  come  the 
way  of  the  Princess  at  all. 

"  Collies  are  treacherous  —  they're  apt  to 
snap,"  Margaret  retorted;  inwardly  she  was 
wondering  how  much  precious  money  had  been 
wasted  over  the  useless  canine. 

"  I'll  just  show  you,  mistress — bring  little 
Elsie  here,  and  you'll  see." 

"It  will  frighten  baby,"  Margaret  objected. 
"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  wife,"  Murray  asserted. 
And  going  to  the  cot  he  brought  the  child  and 
placed  her  on  Wdtson's  knee. 

"  Here,  girl,"  Bob  said  to  the  dog.  The  col- 
lie  put  her  wise  head  on  her  master's  leg,  and 
looked  inquiringly  into  his  face. 

"  You're  to  take  care  o'  little  Elsie,  old  girl," 
Bob  said  with  great  gravity.  "  An'  if  anyone 
goes  to  run  away  with  the  baimie  just  grip  him 
with  your  teeth." 

The  collie  understood  that  her  master's  words 
had  something  to  do  with  the  child.  She  put 
her  paws  on  his  leg  and,  raising  herself,  stuck 
her  cold  nose  in  the  baby's  face,  and  caressed  the 
chubby  little  cheeks  with  her  tongue. 

"  Look  at  her.  Mistress  Murray;  she  knows. 

Didn't  I  tell  you?     My  word,  she'll  die  for 

little  Elsie.    Aye,  aye,  an'  I'm  leavin'  her  behind. 

But  she'll  be  in  good  hands.  Mistress  Murray." 

60 


THE   "MISLED"   COLLIE 

"It's  a  useless  expense,  Mr.  Watson;  a  biir 
dog  will  eat  as  much  meat  as  a  man" 
»K-^''\1'"''  *^"""''  '"'  ^'"'^^'^  "  she  said 

and  they  had  got  behind;  all  summer  she  had 
been  trymg  to  catch  up  and  get  even  with  the 
wond. 

"Meat  mistress!"  Watson  ejaculated  in 
well.fe,gned  astonishment-"  porritch  is  the  very 
thmg  or  coll.«  Stracathna  Princess-that-s 
her  full  name,  Mistress  Murray,"  Bob  said  very 
proudly—"  just  loves  her  porritch  " 

Watson  put  the  baby's  legs  astraddle  the  col- 
li«  s  back,  and  saying,  "  Come  on,  girlie,"  strode 
solemnly  three  times  around  the  room  sing- 
ing * 

"  Ride  I  cock  hone 
To  Binbury  Crow." 

Little  Elsie's  eyes,  as  big  and  bluer  than  her 
mothers,  stared  wonderingly  into  the  broad, 
good-natured  face  of  the  Scotchman;  and  Prin- 
cess paced  as  proudly  as  though  she  were  a  pal- 
irey  carrying  a  queen. 

Margaret,  forgetting  for  a  second  her  appre- 
hens.o„  o  the  ruinous  expenditure,  smiled  in 
mother  delight. 

"There,  bonnie  blue  eyes,"  Bob  said,  lifting 
6i 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

the  child  from  the  collie's  back,  "  give  doggie  a 
kiss.    Kiss  the  bairnie,  girl." 

The  baby  drew  her  eyebrows  together  disap- 
provingly, but  the  collie  imprinted  a  kiss  after 
the  manner  of  her  kind. 

The  mother  took  the  child,  and  Watson  pro- 
ceeded to  explain  just  why  Princess  was  the  very 
best  dog  in  the  world. 

He  detected  an  atmosphere  of  trouble  for 
Murray  ahead  over  parting  with  the  money. 
The  little  woman's  uncordial  reception  of  her 
husband's  announcement  set  Watson  thinking 
very  deeply.  He'  must  square  the  matter  for 
Jack  by  making  the  wife  satisfied  with  the 
deal. 

"  Jock  has  come  by  a  grand  bargain,  Mis- 
tress," he  said,  throwing  a  touch  of  envy  into  his 
voice. 

"  But  we're  needing  every  cent  of  his  wages, 
Mr.  Watson."  It  was  out ;  the  little  woman  had 
let  slip  the  words  she  was  repeating  over  and 
over  to  herself. 

"  Why,  mistress,  the  collie's  pups'll  be  worth 
more'n  ten  dollars." 

^^  "Ten  dollars!"  she  exclaimed  in  horror. 
"  And  is  Jack  bringing  pups,  too — where  are 
they?  " 

Bob  turned  in  confusion  and  whispered  to 
62 


THE   "MISLED"   COLLIE 
Murray.    "Heaven,    Jock.    I    n,ade   a    bad 

Then  squaring  the  slip  with  a  little  equivoca- 
Z  a  '  "TT'^;  "  ^  ^"  -"""in',  mistress, 

Trefo"'?"         '°"   ""  ''"  °^  C"^'^'  " 
"No,  what  are  they?" 

h.J'P"'''"  ^"f*  *^'"'  "°'"'  ^'«««  Murray, 
but  they  were  dog»_gran'  dogs,  the  fathers  of 

P  i„fe«  •       "2  '"  ^"''^'"^-     ^^  Stracathna 
Prmcess  .s  o-  that  strain-Jock  knows  that." 

The  husband  nodded  his  head  complacently, 
though  .t  was  entirely  new  informatioJ  to  him! 

tress  M?r:a7?"'"^'°'J°'^'^  ^°™-- ^- 

WetS'it^.''"--^^-^'.^-! 

AVatson  buried  his  face  in  the  collie's  neck. 

tres^M '^'"'"  ^°"  ""^  "'^"  '"  Scotland,  Mis- 

coJ^rj-    ^°"  ^•='  ""'"■  ''  "^ '"''"  J*"  JU't 
a  common  dog-not  a  collie-mind  you,  thev 

»  „  Jy  J     .  *    "  *''*y  ""^  *'«'T  plenty.    So 

a  good  dog's  name  is  a  hoosehold  word 

,fnl.         .''  ^°""'"'  "^^  '  «""'  ™"i'=  that  was 

stden;  an  just  among  ousel's,  Stracathna  Prin- 

"ss  «  o'  Johnnie  Norman's  blood.     Murray 

63 


M 


:«•  :ii! 


fill 
ill 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

knowi  that.  He's  a  good  judge  o'  a  dog,  ii  Jock. 
No  man'Il  stick  him  wi'  a  bad  one  ";  and  Bob, 
stretching  out  his  foot,  surreptitiously  pressed 
Jock's  corns  till  he  squirmed  in  agony. 

Murray  blushed  at  his  friend'n  tribute  so  at 
variance  with  fact,  but  answered:  "  That's  right 
wife."  ' 

It  was  quite  a  conspiracy. 
"  You  could  put  her  on  the  bench,"  Watson 
declared,  turning  to  the  husband.  "  She  has  all 
the  points  o'  a  prize  winner.  There's  the  finest 
head  you  ever  saw  on  a  collie;  th-  flat,  wide 
skull  that  carries  brain,  tapering'  like  a  lady's 
han'  to  her  eyes.  An'  the  long  muzzle  an'  black 
nose  are  strong  points.  She  has  small  ears,  too 
— big  ears  would  throw  her  oot." 

Watson  stroked  the  really  beautiful  head  as 
though  he  were  a  mother  caressing  a  loved  child. 
"  Aye,  girl,  you're  a  beauty." 

"Tell  me.  Bob,"  queried  Murray;  "she's  a 
queer  color  for  a  collie;  and  lier  eyes  are  sort  of 
like  glass  marbles." 

"  A  collie  may  be  any  color  for  the  bench— it 
doesna'  matter.  The  Princess  is  what  they  call 
'  misled  ';  an'  the  '  wall-eyes  '  always  go  with  a 
mottled  coat.  But  they  must  be  slittcd  in  like 
a  fox's.  I'll  tell  you  the  points;  you  might  want 
to  enter  her  at  the  Kennel  Show.  She  has  a  lonjr 
64 


THE   "MISLED"  COLLIE 

body  and  ribs  well  rounded  up;  an'  the  chest  is 
jeep  an  narrow  in  front,  but  plenty  o'  room  o'er 
the  heart  behind  the  shoulders." 

Watson  was  at  home  on  the  points  of  a  good 
collie,  and,  once  started,  would  talk  all  night  on 
his  favorite  theme.  And  he  continued  about  the 
straight  fore  legs  and  the  well-bent  hocks  and 
long  pasterns  of  the  hind,  the  arched  toes,  the 
double  coat-the  outer  hair  coarse  and  the  inner 
soft  and  furry— until  Margaret  regretted  having 
expressed  any  objection. 

.  "  ^,',"n'l°T  ''°"  ^^"'  *•"  ''"«'  «""««  in.  mis- 
tress. Bob  finally  said;  "  the  intelligence  that's 
next  to  human.  Just  stay  here,  girl,"  he  com- 
manded  the  collie.  "  I'll  go  out  the  back  door- 
I  see  It's  a  latch-an'  do  you,  Jock,  say,  '  Find 
Bob,  an'  you'll  see  what'U  happen." 

Watson  went  out,  and  when  Murray  spoke  the 
mystic  words,  the  collie  went  to  the  door  and 
struck  the  latch  with  her  fore  paw  until  it  freed 
from  the  hasp.  Then  she  wedged  her  thin  nose 
in  the  crack,  opened  the  door,  and  with  a  yelp  of 
delight  whisked  about  her  master. 

Watson  came  in,  his  face  radiant  with  smiles, 
saying:  "  You  see,  mistress,  she'll  be  a  companion 
to  you  when  Murray's  at  work.  Just  learn  her 
wi  Find  Jock,'  an'  if  she  once  gets  the  scent  of 
his  steps,  she'll  bring  him  if  he's  in  the  town 
6S 


w 


llli 


II 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

You  could  even  go  out  and  leave  her  wi*  little 
feUie;  ru  guarantee  nothing  would  touch  the 
baimie." 

"She    is    wise,"    Mn.    Murray    admitted. 

Are  you  ture  ihe'd  not  snap  if  baby  pulled  her 

hair— the  little  one's  always  clutching  at  things  " 

"  No,  she'll  not  do  that.  An'  now  I  must  be 
gomg  away  home,  for  it's  late." 

As  Watson  put  on  his  hat,  the  collie  sprone 
eagerly  to  die  door,  and  stood  waiting  for  him  to 
open  it. 

^^  "  No,  no,  girlie,"  Bob  said  in  a  husJty  voice, 
you  re  to  stay  he^  an'  mind  little  Elsie.    Up 
t.U  I  say  good-by,"  and  he  snapped  his  fingen 
at  his  chin.  " 

Princess  put  her  paws  on  Watson's  shoulders; 
he  threw  his  arms  around  her  arched  neck,  drew 
her  head  in  against  his  rough  cheek,  and  when 
he  hfted  her  gently  down  there  were  tears  in  his 
eyes. 

"  I'll  walk  to  the  comer  with  you,  Bob,"  Mur- 
ray  said,  passing  out. 

"  \"'^^''  »  »I'P.  Jock,"  Watson  said,  as  they 
parted.  "  It  was  over  the  puppies.  If  anything 
went  wrong,  an'  I  couldna  send  you  die  money* 
or  you  were  ncedin'  cash,  just  sell  the  puppies. 
Mick  to  the  mither  as  long  as  you  can,  Jock— I'm 
feared  I'll  be  very  lanesome  widiout  h«-r  " 
66 


THE   "MISLED"  COLLIE 
Wation  went  away  to  Buffalo,  and  Stracathn. 

wl      u °*  ',!'^'  "  ''■y  '■»  «  "'hole  cycle  of  time 

I    htpifd^eL^rr^r^^^^  "^' "  '•'^ 

V  ofcoune  thatdaj).  '  ^'"'"^  '■*^*""'- 

Wtime,  a,  she  lay  on  the  fro,.t  doorstep 

Z  „r  *''V'°""»  "d«-     Whe.  the  restless 

„Tk         ''"''  '"'  "°«  *°  'J-^  Plump-creased 
Sometimes  the  cold  caress  would  brin^  forth 

67 


■<•' 


ii 


M 


II 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

doJng  the  square  thing,"  she  kissed  him  apolo- 
getically, and  said,  "  If  we're  very  careful,  we'll 
manage,  I  think,  Jack." 

It  was  in  the  patrician  collie  blood  of  Stra- 
cathna  Princess  to  guard  and  watch  over  some- 
thing. With  her  ancestors  it  had  been  sheep;  so 
she  literally  interpreted  her  master's  orders  in  the 
supervision  of  Elsie. 

The  little  one  was  taught  to  say,  "  Find  papa, 
Prin,"  and  Watson's  game  of  find-your-master 
was  played  many  times  in  the  little  family. 

Perhaps  it  was'  the  going  away  of  Watson, 
who  was  convivial,  or  the  walks  Murray  gave 
the  collie  that  altered  the  man's  life.  He  went 
less  frequently  to  the  Red  Lion,  and  there  was 
more  money  for  Margaret  and  her  primitive 
housekeeping. 

It  was  the  fourth  Saturday  from  the  event  of 
Princess  that  the  household  god  of  content  was 
shattered. 

Murray  returned  from  the  carpet  factory  with 
sullen  depression  in  his  face.  A  strike  had  been 
declared,  and,  as  he  handed  the  bulk  of  his  week's 
wage  to  Margaret,  he  said,  "  I  fought  against  it, 
wifie,  for  winter's  coming,  and  God  knows  we've 
not  much  to  go  on  with." 

The  little  woman  sat  down  and  cried;  she 
was  brave  enough,  but  her  slender  form  was 
68 


THE   "MISLED"   COLLIE 

strung  with  fine  nerves  that  sometimes  went  to 
pieces. 

The  collie,  feeling  the  unrest  of  something 
wrong,  put  her  head  compassionately  in  the  dis- 
consolate  woman's  hand. 
^^  "  She's  friendin'  you,  girl,"  the  husband  said; 
she  s  saying  to  cheer  up." 
For  a  week  Murray  sat  about  the  house  smok- 
«ng,  or  walked  with  the  dog,  and  fought  against 
the  hypnotic  influence  the  Red  Lion  thrust  into 
nis  hours  of  idleness. 

One  morning  four  puppies  squeaked  and  tum- 
bled foolishly  over  each  other  at  their  mother's 
side—a  pair  of  little  dogs,  sable-and-white,  and 
two  females,  "misled  "  like  their  mother. 

In  SIX  weeks  the  money  was  all  gone;  but  that 
day  Bob's  ten  dollars  came. 

"You  see,  wifie,"  Murray  said,  "a  man 
doesn't  suffer  by  helping  a  friend.  We  wouldn't 
have  had  this  money  now  only  for  the  collie  " 

Murray  tried  to  get  employment;  but  there 
were  a  dozen  applicants  for  every  place— some- 
times fifty;  and  a  carpet  weaver  was  not  a  desir- 
able man  for  general  work. 

Bob's  ten  dollars  lasted  two  weeks.     Then 
hunger  sat  and  jeered  at  them  in  the  little  rough- 
cast house.    People  rolled  by  in  their  carriages, 
fur-robed  and  red  of  cheek,  and  the  laborer,  de- 
«9 


M 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

void  of  labor,  cursed  at  the  injustice  of  it  all; 
and  stroUed  many  times  into  the  Red  Lion,  on 
chance  of  a  casual  glass  with  its  fatal  warmth 
for  his  chilled  spirits. 

The  day  after  the  last  dollar  had  gone,  Mar- 
garet said  to  her  husband,  "Jack,  there  is  no 
milk  for  Elsie,  and  there's  very  Httle  bread  for 
ourselves." 

"  I'll  have  to  sell  one  of  the  pups,  wife,"  the 
husband  answered;  "  Bob  said  I  might  if  I  was 
pmched,  and  it's  a  case  of  sell  or  starve." 

The  pup  was  sold,  and  when  Murray  brought 
home  five  doUars  he  said:  "This  will  carry  us 
mto  work,  I  diink,  for  they're  all  saying  the 
strike  is  about  over." 

Princess  was  showing  the  effect  of  short  ra- 
tions,  and  Murray  gave  away  the  two  females. 
They  existed  two  weeks  on  the  five  dollars  ob- 
tained for  the  little  son  of  Princess;  the  man  did 
—Margaret  absolutely  starved  herself,  furtively 
hiding  this  from  Jack.    She  grew  weaker,  won- 
dermg  if  she  could  hold  out  till  the  time  of  work. 
Hunger-tried  in  the  day  when  she  was  alone 
with  the  collie  and  Elsie,  she  indulged  in  costless 
epicurean  feasts  of  fancy;  the  great  juicy  joint 
of  beef  she  would  have  on  the  table  when  Jack 
was  at  work  again.    She  held  these  wild  revels 
m  company  with  die  collie;  and  Princess  would 
70 


THE    "MISLED"   COLLIE 

Wink  her  wise  wall-eyes,  and  swing  her  tail 
^Jd^ecauseonhe  faint  s.ileoS  her  ™i. 

Before  the  two  weeks  were  up,  Margaret 
fainted  twice  of  exhaustion.    It  was  the  dayX 

Z   ."  \'!  '!V^  **  P"P  "'°"«'y  go  that  Mar- 
garet tumbled    for  the  second  time,  in  a  crum- 
pled heap  on  the  floor;  she  was  brought  out  of 
.nsens.bj^.ty  by  the  sympathetic  tongue  of  Prin 
cess  on  her  face. 

been  T  '^'/?  '"^°"  ^''"*"""'  """d  it  had 

When  Murray  came  in  in  the  evening  he'" 
bought  the  same  bitter  tale  of  the  unyielding 
master  and  obstinate  men 

h.^"^T  i^^"^  "  *^  "'''  ^«^"ily  in  a  chair 
holdmg  the  child  in  her  lap. 

cnJi -""r"  ^''''  ""'^  ^''•^  '«'  "hovelful  of 
w'oVus^r^'J^^-    ^^^o^'wHat-sto 

to    ell  the  other  pup-that's  all  there  is  to  it 

on  till  now,  but  we  can't  starve  " 

"  We  can't  starve  1 "  what  mockeiy-she  had 
been  starving  for  days. 

Murray  picked  up  the  collie  saying,  "  I  won't 
71 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

be  morc'n  fifteen  minutes."  Princess  followed 
him  to  the  door,  and,  as  he  stood  for  a  second, 
looked  yearningly  at  the  pup  in  his  arms. 

"  It's  rough  on  you,  old  girl,"  he  said,  "  but  it 
can't  be  helped." 

In  ten  minutes  Murray  leaned  against  the  Red 
Lion  bar,  saying  to  the  heavy-faced  proprietor, 
"  I've  brought  the  pup  you  wanted." 
"  One  of  Bob  Watson's  breed?  " 
"  Yes." 

"  All  right,  here's  your  V.  Have  a  drop  on 
the  head  of  it— we'll  christen  the  youngster.  By 
Jove!  we'll  name' him  Christmas.  Here's  to 
you,  Jack— Merry  Christmas!  " 

The  florid  man  said  nothing  about  the  little 
starved  woman  at  home;  she  didn't  hear,  any- 
way, so  it  didn't  matter. 

Then  the  glasses  were  filled  again  at  JaJc's 
order,  lest  the  stigma  of  meanness  should  sminA 
the  name  of  the  man. 

"Merry  Christmas,  ha,  ha  I"  some  little 
devil  in  the  clinking  glasses  had  sneered  the 
mocking  laugh. 

Murray  left  the  saloon,  his  hand  grasping  the 
crisp  bill  in  his  pocket;  a  comforting  influence 
stole  up  his  arm  and  threw  his  shoulders  back. 
He  had  gone  in  shivering  with  cold;  he  issued 
with  a  warm  glow  at  his  heart— he  forgot  to 
72 


THE    "MISLED"   COLLIE 

button  his  coat.     The  cheery  liquor  enveloped 
thefivc  dollars  with  the  potentiality  of  fifty 

The  sidewalk  thronged  with  Christmas  shop- 
pers,  animated  of  countenance. 

A  man  touched  Murray's  shoulder,  and  a  fa- 
miliar  voice  said:  "  Well,  Jock  I  " 

"Bob  Watson!    God,  man!"    Then  the  two 
friends  held  hands  for  a  minute  in  silence. 

I  m  just  back  from  Buffalo  to  have  Christ- 
mas  with  the  collie-an'  yourself,  Jock,  o' 
course."  Watson  said.  "  Come  an'  we'll  have 
a  drop  for  auld  lang  syne." 

Murray  complied  hesitatingly,  objecting,  "  I 
must  hurry  back  to  the  wife." 

"C<""«on.man— I'mgoin'withyou.    We'll 
just  have  a  smile  first." 

Watson  furnished  the  smile;  and  then— a  man 
must  be  a  man— Murray  carried  the  ripple  of 
hilarity  along  with  another  smile.  And  over  the 
glasses  with  their  loosening-up  power,  he  told 
the  whole  story  of  his  troubles.  But  Watson 
had  saved  money,  and  declared  he  would 
stand  by  the  man  who  had  loaned  him  his  last 
dollar. 

Bob's  eyes  became  jewels  of  delight      He 
snuggled  the  pup  under  his  chin;  put  it  on  the 
73 


•^i 


!il 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

oak  bar,  and  called  them  all  to  witness  the  glo. 
nous  points  of  "  Christmas." 
..  "  Sable-and-white,"     he     cried     exultingly; 
man,  alive!  that's  the  Charlemagne  cropping 
out— a  grand  strain  indeed  I  " 

Murray  leaned  over  and  whispered  in  Wat- 
son's  ear,  "  I  wouldn't  have  sold  him,  Bob.  if 
I  could  a-hclped  it." 

"  Tut,  man  I  he's  in  good  hands— the  Prin- 
cess s  enough  for  me.  And,  Mr.  Nolan,  we'll 
just  trouble  you  to  wet  the  feet  o'  little 
Christmas." 

Then  Watson,  as  breeder  of  such  a  fine  dog, 
felt  called  upon  to  do  the  honors  of  the  occasion. 
A  dozen  times  little  Christmas  was  brought  forth 
to  be  shown  to  the  friends  of  Watson  who 
dropped  in.  The  proprietor  had  the  price  of  the 
pup  back  in  an  hour. 

The  liquor  had  laid  its  strong  grasp  upon 
Murray  s  half-starved  physique,  and  subdued 
his  consciousness  of  the  flight  of  time. 

At  first  he  repeated  at  intervals,  "  I  must  go, 
Bob  ;  now  he  drank  in  quiescent  waiting  on  his 
friend's  pleasure. 

Christmas  Eve  at  the  Red  Lion;  in  the  little 
rough-cast  house  it  was  this  way: 

When  Jack  had  gone,  Margaret  lighted  a 
lamp  and  peered  into  the  stove;  die  fire  was 
74 


THE   "MISLED"   COLLIE 

almost  burned  out-and  the  Kuttic  wa,  empty. 
She  placed  Els.e  upon  a  shawl  beside  the  stove 
and   opened  the  oven   door.     As  the   stored 

tTeThnd"'"'*^'  *'  ~"''  "'"''"'^  ^^"'"  ''"'^^ 
Sitting  down,  the  mother  tried  to  rest,  as  she 

waited   her  husband's  return.      She   couldn't 

Nerves  are  all-powerful  just  before  they  break; 

*ey  dragged  the  weary  woman  to  her  feet,  they 

paced  her  up  and  down  the  room. 

A  half-hour  went  by-an  hour.    A  gong  in 

the  htt  e  box  of  wheels  on  the  shelf  said  it  las 

e^ght  o'clock     Why  did  not  Jack  retumJome! 

thing  must  have  happened  him-he  had  been 

Kilied,  run  over? 

The  jerky  nerves  drew  fanciful  pictures  of  dis- 
aster     Elsie  was  sleeping  nestled  against  the 
colhe's  s.de,  but  the  room  was  getting  cold-tt 
fire  had  gone  out;  she  put  the  little  one  in  her 
cot    As  Margaret  rose  from  the  chair,  she  stag- 
gered;  and  as  she  stooped  to  lift  the  child,  glim- 
mcnng  lights,  violet  and  blue-green,  blinded  her 
-she  was  choking.  Then,  with  a  call  of  "  Jack  " 
the  little  woman  pitched  forward,  the  collie's 
body  breaking  her  fall. 

The  frightened  child  set  up  a  wail;  and  Prin- 
cess, crawling  from  beneath  her  mistress,  stood 
trying  to  puzzle  out  the  extraordinary  happen- 
6  75 


I 


If 


I' 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

ing.  Why  did  her  mistress  lie  there  without 
speaking?  The  child's  wail  stirred  her  heart 
with  i!  lonesome  feeling. 

The  collie  stepped  forward  and  peered  into 
Margaret's  face,  then  caressed  it;  she  lifted  her 
paw  and  tapped  the  woman's  shoulder  plead- 

ingly — there  was  no  response. 

Subtle  instinct  rr'd  Princess  that  her  mistress 

was  rll;  and  he-  little  playmate,  Elsie,  was  in 

trouble  because  :-.e  cried— just  like  her  own  pups 

used  to. 

Her  brain,  that  was  only  a  wise  dog's  brain, 
worked  confusedly  at  the  disturbing  tangle-  it 
needed  a  lead  in  the  right  direction  from  ihe 
hner-workmg  mechanism  of  a  human  mind. 

There  was  an  air  of  unrest  over  the  room,  such 
as  comes  before  a  storm— the  child's  plaintive 
cry  vibrated  her  sympathy.    It  made  her  restless ; 
she  wanted  somcthing-her  pups  or  her  master, 
or  even  if  the  mistress  would  but  speak     She 
wandered  about  the  room,  sniffing  at  the  nooks 
into  which  her  puppies  used  to  crawl.    A  pair  of 
Murray's  boots  with  the  man's  scent  started  a 
clear  thought— her  master  and  her  pup  had  gone 
away  together.     And  in  the  room  was  but  the 
child's  wail;  Princes,  felt  a  desire  to  howl  in 
sympathy.     She  trotted  back  to  the  pathetic 
group  on  the  floor,  her  nails  clicking  the  boards 
76 


r;  ! 


THE   "MISLED"  COLLIE 

and  shoving  the  coHie'.  h^,A  .         *' 

"Find  papa  1>IT^""  ''"''  "^"y-  »'»«=  "id. 

P    icd-croMcd  and  recrossed  as  they  had 
77 


Ill 


^ 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

been  by  others;  on,  taking  her  wonderful  way  to 
the  door  of  the  Red  Lion. 

Her  thrill  collie  bark  carried  to  Watron'i  ear. 

"God,  man!"  he  cried,  "I'll  take 
m'  oath " 

He  darted  to  the  door;  as  he  flung  it  open, 
Princess  sprang  against  him  with  a  whine  of 
delight.  Then  she  raced  to  Murray,  in  whose 
hands  was  little  "  Christmas." 

"  She's  followed  the  pup,"  Jack  said,  as  the 
mother  smothered  the  little  chap's  face  in  her 
caresses. 

Then  Princess  raced  to  the  door,  uttering  a 
sharp  calling  bark;  then  again  to  the  pup,  giving 
it  a  hurried  kiss;  and  once  more  to  the  door. 

Watson  watched  the  collie's  erratic  move- 
ments with  intense  interest.  Suddenly  he  said, 
"  Jock,  she's  been  sent  for  you ;  there's  something 
wrong,  I  fear — come  away,  man  1 " 

Watson's  words  steadied  Murray's  senses  that 
were  swaying  because  of  the  liquor.  Without  a 
word  he  pushed  through  the  door,  and  the  two 
men  almost  ran;  dread  and  the  cold  night  air 
mastering  the  liquor  fumes. 

As  they  swung  up  the  path,  the  little  house 
was  quiet — there  was  a  light.    As  Murray  stood 
for  a  second  in  the  doorway,  Elsie  held  up  her 
hands,  crying  in  delight,  "  Papa  1 " 
78 


THE   "MISLED"   COLLIE 

Murray  lifted  the  sensclen  form  of  hit  wife 
to  the  bed,  saying,  "  Quick,  Bob,  the  doctor— 
the  red  light  on  the  comer." 

Margaret  lay  like  one  dead.  The  husband 
put  his  hand  over  her  heart;  it  took  a  length  of 
time  to  detect  the  weak  flutter.  He  chafed  her 
hands,  crying  in  an  anguish  of  remorse,  "  Mar- 
garet, girl,  tvake  uj^— oh,  my  God!  " 

Elsie  was  crying  on  the  floor.  He  put  her 
in  her  cot,  and  reproached  himself  with  strong 
words,  "Woe  to  me;  I'll  never  drink  a  drop 
again— I've  killed  the  little  woman." 
Then  the  doctor  and  Bob  came  hurrying  in. 
She'll  be  all  right,"  the  doctor  said,  after  a 
little.  "  It's  lucky  you  caught  me  in,  though— 
she's  so  weak  that  a  half-hour  might  have  made 
ail  the  difference." 

"  The  collie  was  just  in  time,  Jock,"  Watson 
whispered  to  Murray,  as  the  doctor  sat  by  the 
bed. 


4  I 


79 


MKMCorr  mouirioN  nn  ouit 

(ANSI  ond  ISO  TeST  CHAdT  No.  3) 


|2j2 
12.0 


lit  |£ 


I.I 


1.8 


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1.4 


^ 


/IPPLIED  IM^GE    Inc 

teSJ  Cost  Uoin  Strwl 

RochMlOT.  N««  YMIi       14809      USA 

en)  «2-0300-Pt»i» 

(ri«)  2n  -  MS9  -  roK 


THE  INFATUATION  OF  ACKERLY 

ACKERLY  was  an  inspector  of  police  in 
Burma.    That  was  at  Thayetmyo. 
He  was  tall  and  square  and  round- 
cheeked — a  splendid  specimen ;  just  the  sort  of 
man  to  throttle  men  who  needed  it. 

"  Not  an  ounce  of  sentiment  in  his  gladiator 
head,"  some  one  said.  That  was  what  they 
thought;  in  point  of  fact  his  great  muscles  were 
wrapped  up  in  sentiment.  That  was  why  Mys- 
tery held  up  her  cloak,  and  threw  a  shadow  across 
his  path. 

If  the  Gomez  girl  had  been  beautiful,  or  even 
pleasing,  the  thing  that  happened  might  have 
been  put  down  to  the  irresponsibility  of  a  full- 
blooded  youthfulness;  but  the  Gomez  was  short 
and  squat  and  broad-featured  and  black.  She 
was  "  twelve  anas  in  "  of  Hindoo  blood,  and 
not  an  ana  of  it  had  lost  any  of  its  darkness. 

There  was  nothing  to  account  for  Ackerly's 
infatuation  —  absolutely  nothing  —  except  her 
playing.  That  was  the  one  thing  she  could  do 
— ^play  the  violin. 

80 


THE    INFATUATION    OF    ACKERLY 

When  I  say  she  could,  I  must  stop  and  think 
what  a  man  who  knew  aU  about  those  things 
once  said:  "It  is  not  this  woman  who  plays- 
some  spmt  comes  and  uses  her  hand^-that  is 
all."    It  was  like  that,  too. 

The  violin,  a  gentle-walled  Cremona,  had 
been  m  the  Gomez  family  since  the  time  of  Pie- 
tro,  Marie's  great-grandfather,  who  played  like 
an  angel,  tradition  said.  And  all  these  years  the 
spirit  had  lain  asleep  until  Marie's  fat  hands 
had  cried  it  into  wakefuhiess. 

Of  course  she  had  learned  the  thing.  A  sister 
was  married  to  an  engineer  in  a  rice  mill,  and 
his  money  had  been  used  freely  to  teach  her  the 
workmanship  of  the  arts.  That  was  in  Calcutta 
— she  had  been  sent  there. 

This  in  itself  was  a  mere  bagatelle,  the  tuition 
she  received,  as  compared  with  the  spirit  that 
used  her  hands.  It  was  only  the  knowledge  of 
perspective  an  Angelo  might  use  for  one  of  his 
masterpieces. 

Tall,  broad-shouldered  young  men  are  fairish 
marks  on  the  matrimonial  rifle  ranges;  and  Ack- 
erly  had  been  brought  down  by  about  as  sweet  a 
girl  as  anyone  could  very  well  wish  for.  That 
was  before  he  went  to  Thayetmyo;  and  it  made 
the  infatuation  all  the  more  like  a  piece  of  the 
evil  goddess  Kali's  work. 
8i 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

I  have  said  that  the  Gomez's  one  accomplish- 
ment  was  the  violin-but  she  had  another.    She 

that  thnlled  through  the  vibrating  strings  of  the 
sobbmg  viohn  out  to  master  the  minds  of 
animals. 

The  first  time  Ackerly  saw  her  was  at  her 
father  s  place.    Old  Gomez  had  asked  him  down 
to  see  Mane  make  a  king  cobra  dance;  that  was 
^e  way  he  put  .t.    But  then  old  Gomez  had  no 
soul  for  anythmg  beyond  the  fleshpots  of  a  rich 
son-m-law;  and  so  knew  nothing  about  the  ter- 
nble  power  that  came  from  the  talking  strings 
A  hamadryas  iS  a  king  cobra;  as  vicious  and 
as  deadly  as  the  capello,  and  as  strong  as  a  boa. 
But  as  Mane  Gomez  drew  the  bow  across  the 
strings  of  her  violin  in  wailing  tones,  the  king 
cobra  was  hke  a  slim,  silken  ribbon,  for  the  spell 
of  the  spirit  numbed  his  vicious  mind. 

"  It's  extraordinary,"  Ackerly  thought,  as  he 
sat  and  watched,  and  listened  to  the  spirits  in  the 
violin  calling  to  the  king  cobra.  And  "  Boh  "— 
that  was  the  cobra's  name^nderstood  them 

When  Marie  ceased  playing  the  cobra  dropped 
fuU  length  on  the  hard,  beaten  ground,  a  seiVant 
threw  a  basket  down,  and  he  glided  in 

As  the  Gomez  raised  her  eyes,  Ackerly  looked 
82 


THE  INFATUATION  OF  ACKERLY 
into  them.  He  should  not  have  done  that,  for 
he  s^hing  of  the  spirit,  in  the  music  had  gone 
.nto  h.s  muscles,  and  he  was  ready  for  the  h^™ 
that  was  to  come.    He  tried  to  reLmbfr\vt" 

fa«d^mCh.tt.Ko„g  once.    The  leopard  had  eyes 

After  this  there  was  no  rest  for  Ackerly;  nor 
for  he  matter  of  that,  for  his  friends.    Friend; 

tho..ri  <^  ''''"  *'y  "'■'^  "^e  ^"  doing 
^hough  the  Gome^  was  hardly  as  bad  as  tia? 
All  the  same  ,t  wasn't  the  proper  thing-no  eZd 
could  come  of  it.    He  couldn't  lift  hef  up  to  w"k 

there  d  be  sorrow  all  over  the  place.  That  was 
the  way  the  friends  figured  it  ot      .nd  they  hid 

r„?  'm'  P""'^^"^^  -  *-  «■-  of  the  art 
ment     No  white  man  had  ever  done  it  yet-  SI 
man  had  always  been  dragged  down  t<^  the  ield 
of  the  other.     The  friends  looked  at  it  from 
reasonable,  fair-to-all  point  of  view     Th^T^a 
because  the  spirits  in  the  fiddle  hadn't  taTed  t" 

Ackerly  .knew  that  all  they  were  saying  was 

W        they  talked  to  him  he  said  they  were 
83 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

right;  he  was  no  end  of  an  ass,  and  the  girl  was 
as  black  as  his  hat — the  hat  he  wore  in  England. 
He  admitted  it  all,  and  cursed  the  whole  Gomez 
family  for  a  lot  of  "  thugs." 

But  when  the  spirits  that  were  in  the  girl  sent 
their  voices  down  through  the  tamarind  trees  that 
stood  thick  between  the  two  bungalows,  calling 
to  him  on  the  wailing  violin,  he  rose,  and  went 
and  sat  where  he  could  look  into  the  eyes  that 
made  the  cobra  droop  his  head.  "  Devil's  eyes  " 
she  had,  the  friends  said;  but  they  haunted  Ack- 
erly  day  and  night.  They  weren't  evil,  he 
thought;  but  that  they  would  work  evil  for  him 
he  knew,  just  as  surely  as  any  of  the  others. 

And  when  he  had  come,  the  short,  squat  figure 
would  huddle  itself  close  beside  him.  And  the 
music  would  talk  to  him  of  love  and  rest,  and 
the  sighing  of  the  violin  was  th-;  sighing  of 
angels,  and  the  sobbing,  the  crying  of  wrecked 
hopes ;  and  the  full  notes  were  a  godlike  majesty, 
and  the  low,  soft  plaint  the  whispering  of  the 
winds  in  the  gossamer  leaves  of  the  tamarind. 

Nobody,  not  even  the  Gomez,  knew  about 
this,  the  only  bit  of  truth  there  was  in  the  whole 
thing.  She  thought  it  was  for  herself  that  the 
strong-limbed  inspector  of  police  came — because 
he  loved  her.  Had  not  her  sister,  who  was 
also  fat,  married  a  sahib ;  a  sahib  who  drew  six 
84 


liil 


THE    INFATUATION    OF    ACKERLY 

they  were  iealou,.Vj.  ^*  '^"  ''«'»«« 

hurrying  hi.seff  u^der  L  "fl  te  on™"""' 
«h«t  out  the  barrenness  of  bel^b/r  '""'  '" 

bei^te%tf  d"'r- '^^  ^'^'^-''- "oo.     "I 
oeiieve  that  devil  is  jealous  "  Art.-i  . 

to  the  Gomez  girl     '•  c"  '  .h,     ''^  ?""  "''* 
at  me."  ''"  **"«  ^''X  he  looks 

"Oh,  he  won't  harm  youl  "  reoIie-J  f,;. 
panion ;  "  he  like«  th^  ^    ■      .       *^    '^  "is  com- 
J-         ,     lie  iiKes  the  music,  that  s  all     T<^  i  *  n 

h..  ^  go. vein  your  bung;iow.h\tllgoV'" 

cwS'^"^.t.dr„.r  ''''^" «- 

I  should  kill  him."  ""«'"  •"'•  *»•  «=!''« 

The  squat  figure  laughed  a  little,  and  made 
8j 


■  ilk 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

a  pass  at  the  cobra  with  her  fiddle  bow.  He 
raised  his  head  slightly,  blew  out  his  hood,  and 
then  glided  off  among  the  silk  leaves  of  the 
plantain  trees. 

"  I'll  send  him  to  your  bungalow  to-morrow," 
she  said,  "  to  guard  it,  lest  some  other  girl  comes 
and  steals  you  away  from  me." 

"If  you  do,  I'll  shoot  him,"  replied  her  com- 
panion,  looking  at  her  widi  a  grave,  determined 
face. 

She  pulled  the  bow  across  the  strings  of  the 
violin  that  lay  upon  her  knee;  and  the  note  cut 
through  him  like  a  knife.  Yes,  it  was  some  one 
dying,  that  was  the  cry  that  came  up  from  the 
strings. 

"You  sec,"  she  said,  looking  into  his  face 
with  those  strangely  lighted  eyes,  the  leopard 
eyes,  "  if  you  kill '  Boh,'  you  kill  me." 

"  You  must  not  say  such  a  silly  thing  as  that," 
he  answered  angrily;  "it's  only  a  cobra,  .nd 
should  be  killed." 

"  No,"  she  said,  and  the  violin  was  wailing 
again,  as  the  bow  touched  it  tremblingly,  "  if 
you  kill  him  I  shall  die.  I  can't  tell  you  about 
it,  but  that  is  so." 

And  then  the  violin  wailed  and  moaned,  and 
the  cadences  of  the  dirge  rose  and  fell,  ,ust  like 
the  wind  sighing  through  the  gaunt  cassarina 
86 


THE    INFATUATION    OF    ACKERLY 

trees,  with  their  harp  bows,  which  grew  down  on 
the  salt-sea  shore  where  Ackerly's  white  girl 
lived.  She  let  the  hand  that  held  the  bow  sud- 
denly  stop  and  lie  across  his  wrist,  as  she  said: 
And  if  anything  were  to  happen  to  you,  it 
would  be  the  same,  too,  I  should  die." 

The  hand  scorched  his  wrist,  and  her  voice, 
which  was  only  the  continuation  of  the  plaint 
that  had  come  from  the  violin,  seared  his  ears, 
and  lay  hot  against  his  soul.  It  was  an  accursed 
thing  this;  even  if  she  were  to  die,  or  the  whole 
family  were  to  die,  he  couldn't  wreck  everything 
—his  own  life,  the  lift  of  the  girl  who  lived 
down  where  the  cassarinas  grew,  and  his  mother's 
life.  That  was  all  so ;  but  strong  as  these  things 
were,  they  were  not  so  strong  as  the  other,  the 
voices  that  spoke  to  him  from  the  fat  hands  of 
the  Gomez,  and  told  him  to  come  night  after 
night,  and  sit  where  the  big,  black  eyes  might 
look  into  his. 

The  next  day  Ackerly  heard  a  soft  rustle  in 
the  comer  of  his  bedroom.    It  was  "  Boh." 

When  the  inspector  saw  him  he  swore  like  a 
proper  soldier.  That  was  because  the  sound  of 
the  violin  was  not  in  his  ears,  and  he  was  more 
or  less  in  his  right  senses. 
^^  He  took  his  police  sword  down,  exclaiming: 
I II  not  stand  your  infernal  nonsense,  anyway 
87 


t' 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

If.  bad  enough  to  play  the  goat  with  a  Portu- 
g«e.e  ha  f-ca.te.  but  when  it  lom.s  to  klZT, 
".enagenc  if.  too  n,uch  of  a  good  thing  "'    * 

The  cobra  looked  at  him  sleepily;  he  felt  .ure 
that  nothing  would  happen  to  him. 

Ackerly  took  two  steps  toward  "  Boh  "  then 
stopped.    "Hang  ,he  thingl  "  he  sar":  "£ 

there  d  be  no  end  of  a  row  over  it.    He's  lust 

^!Tr  '•?r""'  '  ''"'''■"    So  He  puti 

"Boh-T/"^  ?'r  "  «"''^''  «  *he  cobra. 

Boh     dodged  the  little  round  fruit,  and  glided 

Ackerly  thought  of  what  the  Gomez  had  said 

true  to  her.       There's  no  danger  of  that "  he 
cxcla.med  angrily;  "  if  anyone  blacker  or  u'glie 

rou  see,  he  used  to  score  himself  heavily  when 

^atuat,on,  as  a  man  reviles  liquor  when  he  is 

^nl^°K  ^'u"^  '''"''  ""'^  'P^'d  »^»  hood  in 
JSanl" .'  '^°^'  °'  *^  ^-"  «  ^-g 


black  and  ugly. 

Ho?".  ""  u'  ^^^'J'  «°*  "  '^"'^  from  the  girl 

down  by  the  sea-the  white  one.     There  wa 

none  of  the  weird  music  of  the  fiddle  in  it;  „oT 

88 


the  girl 


THE    INFATUATION    OF    ACKERLY 

Nice   chum   you've   ont "   -     l 

»..rd     Boh,    ..h.p„„^.,k.i„,„„^,^ J 
?J„ f  '«•■"'  *i"8  know.  U.,  ;l  „„  ^^^^ 

Wave  a  cheroot,  Green,"  said  Ackerlv  h.  'W 
h.s  agar  case  toward  the  newcomer  '  ^   '^■ 

someot7pTacXo°.'^".r  '""^^^^^  ^^ 
89 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


k 


n 


out  where  there's  a  good  healthy  icourge  of 
cholera  on,  I'd  have  you  sent  there,"  he  added, 
looking  indulgently  at  the  inspector. 

"  Look  here,"  exclaimed  Ackerly,  shifting  in 
his  chair,  "  you  fellows  are  bothering  your  heads 
confoundedly  about  me.  Leave  me  alone.  I'm 
all  right." 

"So  was  Sanbum,"  said  Green — "and  he 
shot  himself  at  the  finish.  '  Chee-chee  '  love  is 
hell,  that's  what  it  is,  my  young  friend." 

"  Well,"  answ  -ed  Ackerly,  "  when  the  order 
comes  I  won't  budge.  I'm  not  a  griffin  just  out 
from  home,  to  be  ordered  about  the  country  by 
a  lot  of  paternal  cusses  who  have  gone  through 
the  whole  thing  themselves,  and  are  sick  of  it." 

"  What'U  you  do?  "  asked  his  friend  laconic- 
ally. 

"  I'll  cut  the  forre  first — go  into  something 
else,  where  I'll  have  a  little  say  in  my  own  affairs. 
I'd  like  to  be  my  own  master  for  a  minute,  just 
to  see  how  it  feels." 

"  You'll  never  be  that  if  you  stay  here,"  as- 
serted Green  decisively. 

"  Here,  have  a  peg,  and  shut  up,"  br^ke  in  the 
inspector.  "  I'm  sick  of  the  whole  business — 
sick  of  you  fellows  lecturing  me  as  though  I  were 
worth  bothering  about.  Besides,  Green  " — and 
he  reached  over  and  laid  his  hand  on  his  friend's 
90 


THE    INFATUATION    OP    ACKERLY 

,     wasn  t  a  talking  man     AI«n  f    —  . 

know  it    i/Tt,  ?!"    f  ""  "■'"«  "  I'M  you 

y,t  „    '^  """^  '^>  I «  pull  you  out  of  the  mire 

^nff^  S"*'"''^  incredulously.     "You„  , 

(Clerks)     and  your  mudcoated   villagers,   but 
^  91 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

when  it  comes  to  playing  against  the  Gomez, 
she'll  beat  you  out.  You  remember  the  Hindoo 
fakir  who  came  here  one  day  and  sent  a  boy  up 
a  string  into  the  air,  and  we  never  saw  him 
again  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  remember,"  said  Green,  listlessly. 

"  Well,  with  all  your  codes  of  procedure,  and 
your  books  on  how  to  do  this  and  how  to  do  that, 
you  couldn't  accniint  for  it,  could  you  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  the  deputy  absent-mindedly, 
wondering  what  it  had  to  do  with  the  thing  in 
hand. 

"  Nor  could  you  bring  the  boy  back  again. 
No,  of  course  you  couldn't.  Neither  can  you 
tell  anything  about  the  power  this  woman  uses  to 
send  me  up  a  string,  if  you  like.  Neither  can 
you  bring  me  back  again.  That's  because  your 
logic  is  of  the  West,  where  you've  got  to  get  at 
the  cubical  contents  of  the  thing  before  you  can 
do  anything  with  it.  You've  got  to  measure  it, 
and  weigh  it,  and  pound  it  up,  and  assay  it — and 
then  write  out  a  sort  of  formula  about  the  thing. 

"  But  this  other  problem  you  can't  understand, 
because  it's  of  the  East;  but  it's  as  simple  to  these 
close-to-nature  beings  as  your  mathematical  rot 
is  to  you.  There,  I  have  spoken.  Drink  your 
peg,  and  let's  gallop  down  to  the  polo  grounds 
—that's  healthier.  And  also  if  I  ride  hard  per- 
92 


THE    INFATUATION    OF    ACKERLY 

haps  I'll  break  my  stupid  neck,  and  it'll  save  you 
meddlesome  grannies  a  lot  of  worry." 

As  they  went  out  they  saw  "  Boh  "  lying  under 
the  veranda,  his  wicked  eyes  gleaming  like  two 
blood-streaked  diamonds. 

"  Did  the  woman  give  him  to  you?  "  asked 
Green,  nodding  his  head  sideways  toward  the 
cobra;  "  or  did  she  send  him  here  to  keep  your 
mmd  fixed  on  her?  You're  the  bird,  and  he's 
to  keep  up  the  fascination,  I  suppose." 
^^  "  I  don't  know,"  answered  Ackerly  carelessly; 
he  himed  up  to-day— that's  all  I  know  about 
It.  But  It  wasn't ;  he  knew  the  violin  player  had 
sent  him — he  could  feel  it. 

"  He's  really  not  a  cobra  at  all,"  remarked  the 
deputy.  "  In  the  books  on  snakes  he  goes  under 
another  name.  I  forget  what  it  is—'  devil '  for 
choice,  I  should  say." 

They  played  polo,  and  nobody's  neck  was 
broken,  not  even  Ackerly's.  After  dinner  Green 
called  at  the  policeman's  bungalow  to  lug  him 
off  to  the  club.  "  I  must  amuse  this  strange  ani- 
mal," he  thought  as  he  went  up  the  steps,  "  until 
I  break  her  hold  on  him." 

But  Ackerly  was  gone.    "  He's  over  there," 

muttered  the  deputy,  nodding  in  the  direction 

from  which  came  dreamy,  sensuous  music.    "  I'll 

go  and  take  part  in  that  seance^  he  told  himself. 

93 


THIRTEEN    MEN 


"If  there  are  two  of  us,  it  will  split  up  the  blessed 
thing,  perhaps." 

He  found  the  inspector  sitting  beside  the  black 
Gomez.  Of  course  she  was  playing  to  him,  just 
as  she  had  been  to  the  cobra  diat  night.  It  made 
Green  angry;  his  anger  silenced  him.  He  said 
"  Good  evening "  sullenly  as  he  came  up  to 
them. 

Ackerly  looked  up  good-naturedly,  and 
pointed  toward  a  big  chair.  "  I  suppose  you 
want  me.  I'll  come  with  you  in  a  minute.  Sit 
down,"  he  said.  He  nodded  toward  Marie,  and 
ejaculated  "  Play  1 "  for  she  had  stopped. 

As  Marie  played,  the  deputy's  anger  slipped 
away  from  him.  He  tried  to  think  of  why  he 
had  come — tried  to  remember  why  he  was  angry. 
But  the  melody  was  of  green  fields  and  sunshine, 
and  water  splashing  over  the  rocks,  and  of  birds; 
and  nothing  else  there — nothing  only  love.  It 
was  the  song  of  a  love  dream. 

He  sat  a  long  time  watching  the  fat  hands 
caressing  the  spirit-voiced  violin,  and  wondering 
why  he  had  been  angry  at  all — why  the  thing 
was  wrong. 

When  she  ceased  playing,  and  there  was  only 

the  squat,  dark-faced  figure  bulging  misshapenly 

in  the  white  muslin  dress,  he  thought  of  the  un- 

holiness  of  it  all.    Surely  it  was  something  to  un- 

94 


THE    INFATUATION    OF    ACKERLY 

fJl  ^*""7'°"K'  °^<^  -^hap,"  he  said  rudely,  get- 
ting  up  and  putting  his  hand  on  Aclcerly's  shoul- 
der;     we  promised  to  meet  the  colonel  at  die 

about  .t.  That  was  an  impromptu  lie,  but 
Green  knew  he'd  never  do  penance  for  it.  The 
fair  ha.red  boy  beside  him  was  worth  a  great 
deal  more  than  that,  if  he  could  bring  him  back 
to  his  senses. 

.  J'°°",''  ^"'f  *"'"  """"""ded  Ackerly,  as  they 
swung  along  the  hard  road  togeAer.  "  Youvl 
seen  what  you've  seen,  and  you're  going  to  do 
something;  but  don't  preach-it's  no  good." 

That  was  why  Green  said  never  a  word  for 
days  to  his  friend  about  the  Gomez;  but  stuck 
close  to  him  until  the  inspector  began  to  almost 
hate  the  sight  of  his  face. 

freS'"  vl  ^°"'°""'^,^'^'y  f"«"dly,"  he  said 
trettul  y,  I  m  sure  you're  neglecting  your  vil- 
agen,  looking  after  me."  That  was  beLse  the 
influence  wasn't  good  for  his  nerves,  and  he  was 
getting  irntable.  Green  wasn't  trying  to  cure 
him  that  way;  he  was  only  holding  him  in  check 
until  the  coup  d'e,at  he  had  planned  should  come 

He  had  worked  out  the  saving  of  Ackerly 
95 


THIRTEEN    MEN 


% 


■m 


Mi 


with  his  wife.  "  A  woman  is  worth  a  dozen  men 
in  a  case  of  this  kind,"  he  said  to  himself.  To 
her  he  said :  "  I  want  you  to  help  me  a  little. 
Ackerly  is  in  a  bad  way;  something  has  got  to  be 
done  pretty  quick.  If  they  trap  him  with  a  mar- 
riage it  -vill  be  too  late. 

"  I've  written  to  have  him  transferred  as  far 
as  they  can  send  him.  The  correspondence  is 
only  just  nicely  under  way  as  yet,  and  I  have 
received  fourteen  communications  from  three 
different  departments  about  the  matter.  And  it 
appears  that  I  have  nearly  ruined  the  man's 
character  as  an  officer;  also  considerably  dam- 
aged my  own  as  a  man  of  sense,  I  think. 

"  They  want  me  to  specify  my  charges  against 
him.  Has  he  been  looting?  or  taking  bribes? 
Is  it  drink?  has  he  been  hanging  the  natives 
about?  or  is  he  simply  inefficient?  One  depart- 
ment intimates  that  he  is  not  supposed  to  take 
orders  from  me;  and  if  he  has  been  insubordi- 
nate, it  serves  me  right. 

"  At  any  rate,  they  are  not  paying  traveling 
allowance  for  officials  from  one  eud  of  Burma 
to  the  other,  simply  because  somebody  wishes 
somebody  else  shifted,  they  say. 

"  That's  only  a  part  of  it,"  he  continued  de- 
spairingly.   "  One  man  who  seems  to  have  got 
an   inkling  of  what's   in   the  wind — inkling! 
96 


t  i 


THE    INFATUATION    OF    ACKERLY 

Great  Cisar  I  I  thought  I  had  put  it  as  plain  as 
I  dared— writes  that  the  Government  is  not  a 
maternal  institution,  looking  after  harebrained 
youngsters,  and  keeping  them  out  of  matrimonial 
entanglements.  I  should  say  they  weren't;  but 
they'd  weed  him  out  quick  enough  if  he  married 
the  Gomez." 

"  Well,  Jack,"  said  Mrs.  Green,  "  you've  got 
to  send  for  the  other  one;  that's  the  only  way. 
She'll  come  quick  enough,  too.  She  loves  this 
soft-headed  youngster,  and  she's  got  sense 
enough  to  lift  him  out  of  this  business." 

That  was  the  coup  d'etat  that  Green  was  hold- 
ing Ackerly  in  check  for. 

Ackerly  was  leading  a  haunted  life.  Green 
stuck  to  him  with  a  feverish  intentness.  "  I  must 
hold  this  young  ass  till  Jess  comes,"  he  thought 
"  Jess  "  was  the  girl. 

On  the  other  side  "  Boh  "  had  nested  in  the 
mspector's  house;  and  often  when  he  fancied  he 
was  breaking  awSy  from  the  speU  a  little,  the 
devil  eyes  of  die  cobra  would  peer  at  him  from 
some  hole,  and  he  could  feel  that  the  Gomez  saw 
him,  and  was  reproaching  him. 

Of  course,  he  went  many  times  over  to  the 
other  bungalow.    Sometimes  the  violin  called  to 
him  down  through  the  tamarinds;  sometimes  the 
dark  eyes  beckoned  to  him  out  of  the  night. 
97 


THIRTEEN    MEN 


Then  one  day  Jess  came.  She  stopped  with 
the  Greens,  as  had  been  arranged.  They  took 
Ackerly  in  hand  with  a  proprietary  right,  but 
with  much  diplomatic  gentleness;  that  was  Mrs. 
Green's  doing. 

The  Gomez  knew  the  other  had  come,  and 
why.  She  talked  to  her  violin,  and  it  wailed 
back;  and  the  big,  eloomy  eyes  looked  at "  Boh," 
and  he,  too,  knew.  It  was  all  the  doing  of  the 
spirits  that  worked  through  the  fat  hands  which 
caressed  the  strings  of  the  throbbing  violin. 

"  How  is  it  going.  Jack?  "  Mrs.  Green  aoked 
her  husband.  "  Does  he  go  there  now  ?  "  That 
was  two  or  three  days  after  Jess  had  come. 

"  I  think  not,"  replied  Green.  "  Looks  as 
though  it's  broken  up." 

He  was  right  in  a  way.  Ackerly  had  not  gone 
to  the  Gomez  s  ''tice  Jess  came;  but  it  was  not 
broken  up — not  by  a  great  deal.  The  young  fel- 
low was  only  torturing  his  soul  that  he  might  be 
a  man  for  three  or  four  days.  He  talked  to  Jess 
in  the  evening,  and  then  went  to  his  own  bunga- 
low, and  the  sobbing  violin  carried  its  talc  of 
anguish  to  him  through  the  heavy,  Burmese 
night. 

"  Boh  "  only  knew  what  the  violin  cried;  that 
for  three  nights  his  mistress  Marie  had  sat  with 
scorched  eyes  and  low-droof  ed  head. 
98 


THE    INFATUATION    OF    ACKERLY 
The  fourth  night  from  the  coming  of  Jew 

the  latter  8  bungalow.    Je«  had  gone  to  bed,  and 
Green  had  kept  hi,  friend  there  long  into  tEe 

"Have  you  seen  '  Boh  '  about  here  lately? " 
asked  Ackerly,  trying  to  speak  carelessly.    "  He's 

£-th°a"t^"  "'  ^""«'"°"'  """^  ^  ^"  ""^"'d 

tJ^^k'??*"""  '"'^  whispered  to  him  about 

£iniiss;r"'^^"--'^^^-^^-- 

frol^"'  k"*  ^''f  ""'*'  "^''y  *°  ~'"«  o'^"  here 
from  my  bungalow;  I  wish  you'd  keep  an  eye 
open  for  h.m,  and  if  he  bothers  club  him  away  " 

h  J    ",    ?"^  *°"«''*  °^  ^''"  ^«'«ri«  Gomez 

fall  '.  '  "'"?"»  "  ^"'^  "  *°  P^'^'nt  his 
falling  m  love  with  any  other  girl.    What  if 

there  was  anything  i„  that,  and  "  Boh  "  should 
revenge  his  mistress  on  Jess. 

He  was  still  in  this  train  of  thought  when  he 

was  start  led  by  Jack's  wife  gliding  toward  them 

with  a  fright-blanched  face  ^"^  tnem 

"  Jess  1 "  she  gasped.    "  The  cobra  I  " 

Ackerlyfa,ew;his  thoughts  had  just  been  of  it. 

1  .  y^"'- u      .'"'  ^°"'"  t^«Ive-boreI  "  he  ciacu- 

lated  widi  subdued  earnestness.    Green  handed 

him  his  shotgun,  and  they  hurried  to  Jess's  apart- 

99 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


# 


ment.     Ackerly  knew  exactly  what  he  thould 
find;  he  knew  just  what  "  Boh  "  would  do. 

At  the  door  he  stopped.  On  the  dressing 
table  a  lamp  was  burning,  and  by  its  light  he 
saw  "  Boh's  "  flat,  arched  head,  with  the  wicked, 
gleaming  eyes,  erect  and  motionless,  not  two  feet 
from  Jess's  face;  the  body  of  the  cobra  was 
coiled  up  on  her  breast.  Jess  was  awake;  her 
eyes  moved,  but  for  that  she  was  perfectly  mo- 
tionless. ' 

"  Don't  be  frightened,  little  woman,"  he  said 
tenderly;  "I  am  going  to  shoot,  but  don't 
move." 

Then  without  raising  the  gun,  for  he  saw  the 
evil  in  the  cobra's  eyes,  he  fired  point-blank  from 
his  hip.  The  report  was  terrific  in  the  closed 
room,  and  the  heavy  pall  of  the  sulphurous 
smoke  shut  out  the  sight  of  everything. 

He  sprang  forward,  and  his  strong  arm  swept 
the  girl,  covers  and  all  from  the  bed.  There  was 
really  no  hurry,  for  "  Boh  "  was  stone-dead,  his 
ugly  head  shot  to  pieces. 

Green  had  never  arranged  for  that  act  in  his 
coup  d'etat. 

Whether  it  was  the  death  of  "  Boh  "  or  not 
I  am  not  prepared  to  say;  but  the  mystery  and 
power  had  passed  away  from  the  Gomez  from 
that  time. 

lOO 


THE    INFATUATION    OF    ACKERLY 

Marie  didn't  die  physically  as  she  had  said  she 
would  with  the  death  of  "  Boh,"  but  the  other, 
the  greater,  died.  The  spirits  caUed  no  more  to 
Ackerly  from  the  strings  of  her  violin. 


lOI 


1 


THE   STEALING   OF   THE   BUDDHA 
PEARL 

WHEN  a  man  is  rich  he  joins  the  looth 
Hussars — if  he  can;  when  he  loses 
his    money    he    retires — he    must. 
That's  what   Hadley  did — both.     It  was  in 
Rangoon. 

An  officer  out  of  service  is  about  as  useful  as 
a  bronze  Buddha  in  Covent  Garden;  and  the 
more  Hadley  thought  of  things  he  might  do, 
the  oftener  he  came  back  to  the  predominant 
idea  of  a  popular  crossing  to  sweep,  somewhere 
in  London. 

Then  rose  up  Balthazar,  the  Armenian,  and 
started  him  in  the  pearl-fishing.  Balthazar  was 
an  individual  who  had  momentum  and  much 
money.  Hadley  had  brains  and  honor — there 
you  are. 

MacAUister,  of  Singapore,  furnished  a 
stanch  craft  of  seventy  tons,  the  Ruby;  also 
good  "Hinks"'  air  pumps.  Balthazar  sent 
I^hbo,  son  of  Mah  Thu,  who  lived  in  Mergui, 
with  Hadley.  Lahbo  was  coach — Hadley  would 
soon  learn,  the  Armenian  said. 

102 


STEALING    THE    BUDDHA    PEARL 

All  the  pearl  fisher,  went  to  Mergui,  in  Bur- 
ma,  for  their  pump  boats  and  crews.  Hadlev 
hired  three  boats  with  crews  from  Ragath,:  for 
iix  hundred  rupee,  per  month.  For  each  boat 
he  hired  a  diver:  Angelo,  Pietro,  and  Lahbo. 

m  all  the  Mergu.  Archipelago.  If  other  divers 
got  thirty  shells  in  a  day,  Angelo  got  fifty,  when 
they  brought  none,  he  still  found  a  few  Pa 
raly.i.  never  came  near  him,  though  he  "dived 
deeper  than  any  of  them-worked  farther  out 
m  the  deep  water  where  the  best  shells  were. 
When  the  other  divers  strove  for  his  secret.  An- 
gelo  showed  his  white  Spanish  teeth  in  a  laugh, 
and  said  it  was  the  medicine  he  rubbed  on  that 
kept  h,m  from  the  divers'  devil,  the  paralysis. 

Hadley  s  allotted  station  was  off  Pawa  Island 
— Pawa,  where  the  great  waterfall  tumbles 
sheer  over  die  rock-cliffed  shore  into  the  sea.  It 
was  good  fishing  there,  and  each  evening  wh:n 
the  boats  pulled  alongside  the  Ruby  her  decks 
g  istened  with  the  gray-green  shells,  big  as  soup 
plates,  that  were  thrown  over  the  rail.  There 
were  pearls  in  some  of  them,  too;  sometimes 
loose,  like  a  cherry  in  the  jelly;  sometimes  grown 
in  the  shell,  like  a  fly  in  the  amber. 

Perhaps  it  was  trying  to  keep  up  with  Angelo 
that  caused  Lahbo  to  be  laid  by  the  heels  by  the 
103 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

dreaded  paralytii.  The  second  week  cf  the  fish- 
ing he  came  up  unconKious,  and  when  he  opened 
his  eyes  again  he  was  paralyzed.  Hadley  did 
not  turn  him  off  like  a  broken-down  horse, 
but  nursed  him.  "  Hanged  if  I'll  send  him  off 
there  to  live  on  betel  nut,"  he  said.  "  He's 
come  to  it  working  for  me,  and  I'll  see  him 
through." 

That  was  Hadley's  way.  So  he  fed  him  gen- 
erously, and  doctored  him  intelligently,  and  paid 
him  with  a  Quixotic  fairness.  And  when  Lahbo 
went  back  to  Mergui  at  the  end  of  the  season 
he  told  Mah  Thu  that  Hadley  Thakine  was  as 
good  as  a  Buddhist. 

Then  the  mother  went  and  smoked  her  che- 
root on  the  veranda  of  Hadley,  the  pearl-mas- 
ter's bungalow.  The  little  eyes,  like  cheap 
yellow  beads  set  deep  in  the  heavy  Burmese  face, 
watched  the  white  man  furtively  as  he  came  and 
went.  When  the  eyes  were  satisfied,  she  told 
him  her  secret — of  the  Buddha  Pe?  'l.  That  was 
because  he  had  been  good  to  Lahbo.  Years 
before,  a  Buddhist  priest,  Crotha,  who  was  fa- 
vored of  Buddha,  wanted  to  build  a  pagoda  on 
Pawa.  So  he  carved  little  images  of  Buddha 
from  the  alabaster,  and  put  them  in  young 
oysters.  These  he  put  back  in  the  sea  near  to 
Pawa.  "  The  oysters  will  cover  the  Buddhas 
104 


STEALING    THE    BUDDHA    PEARL 

He  invoked  a  curse  on  any  who  ihould  come 
by  he  pearls  dishonestly,  and  put  a  .acred  mark 
on  the  sheHs  so  that  they  might  be  known. 

When  Crotha  thought  the  pearls  h,d  been 

tZLJ:  ""'^^''»'-.   who  was   Mah 
Ihus  husband,  to  dive  for  them. 

">  the  hght  of  an  .mpostor;  and  when  the  bia 
pear  oysters  with  the  marks  were  fished  up  he 
gently  strove  to  sequester  them  for  the  use'  o 
h.s  own  church.  Nobody  ever  quite  knew  ju. 
what  happened  on  the  boat,  for  th.v  were  all 
k."ed  m  the  row  that  ensued.  Even  C^th " 
who  was  with  them,  was  killed.  ' 

Mah   Thu  knew  the  spot.     Outside   from 

Reef,  fifty  boat  lengths  beyond  this,  sailing 
south  unt.l  the  great  waterfall  is  opposite  th! 
first  .ron  dog-that  was  the  spot.    Mah  Thu' 

I  must  keep  Angelo  for  this  work,  he  thought. 
bo  when  Angelo's  money  was  all  swallowed  up 
in  gm  and  religion,  and  little  side  issues,  he  ad- 
105 


THIRTEEN    MEN 


vanced  him  more  to  live  on;  that  was  against 
the  next  seaeon's  work.  Lahbo  would  be  fit  to 
work  again  also,  the  doctor  said. 

When  Hadley  went  out  next  season,  Mah 
Thu  went  with  him  to  show  the  place  where  the 
great  pearls  were. 

Beyond  the  Iron  Dog  Reef  Hadley  anchored 
the  Ruby,  and  the  divers  worked  back  and 
forth. 

It  was  Lahbo  found  the  teakwood  ribs  of 
Crotha's  boat  sticking  up  out  of  the  sand,  quite 
half  a  mile  from  the  Ruby.  It  was  in  twenty- 
five  fathoms,  and  the  pressure  was  great. 
Lahbo  had  been  so  long  under  water  that  his 
tender  signaled  him  to  come  up. 

At  last  he  came,  with  eight  shells  in  his  bag. 
As  he  reeled  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  faint 
and  giddy,  one  of  the  boatmen  gave  a  queer 
cry  of  awe.  Lahbo  looked  at  him  drunkenly; 
in  the  sailor's  hand  was  a  shell  with  the  sacred 
mark  of  a  pagoda  on  it. 

"  Loud-voiced  fool  I  "  said  the  diver,  "  throw 
it  with  the  others."  Then  he  swayed  like  a 
broken  shutter,  for  he  was  half-paralyzed  by  the 
terrible  pressure,  and  fell  in  a  heap  close  to  the 
shells. 

"  The  sun  will  kill  him,  oh,  you  brothers  of 
oxen  I  Put  up  on  this  side  the  canvas  that  he 
1 06 


STEALING    THE    BUDDHA    PEARL 

may  have  shade!"  exclaimed  Ncyoung,  the 
tender. 

And  to  make  hot  water  for  the  stricken  man 
he  built  a  fire  on  the  small  clay  fireplace  just  in 
the  stem.    When  the  fire  was  burning  strong, 
and  the  canvas  had  shut  off  the  boatmen  so  that 
they  could  not  see,  Lahbo  clutched  his  mate  by 
the  arm  and  pointed  to  the  fire  and  the  marked 
shell.    All  the  weariness  of  the  paralysis  had 
gone;  there  was  only  a  mu-derous  look  of  cu- 
pidity in  the  oblique  eyes  of  the  diver.    The  ten- 
der  understood.    He  shoved  the  little  iron  tongs 
that  were  used  for  the  charcoal  in  the  fire,  and 
showed  his  pawn-blackened  teeth  in  a  grin  of 
appreciation.     Soon  the  tongs  were  red  hot; 
Lahbo  had  taken  a  cork  from  the  pocket  of  his 
short  white  jacket. 

Then  Neyoung  put  the  hot  iron  close  to  the 
hinge  of  the  gigantic  shell  and  slowly  the 
saucerlike  lids  opened.  The  cork  was  shoved 
in  to  keep  them  in  that  position,  and  Lahbo  ex- 
plored  the  inside  with  a  sliver. 

The  boatmen  heard  a  sharp  cry  from  behind 
the  canvas.     "  Lahbo  is  in  pain,"  they  said. 

"  It's  a  pearl  from  the  gods,"  hoarsely  whis- 
pered  Lahbo  to  Neyoung,  as  he  held  in  his  hand 
something  he  had  gently  roUed  out  with  the 
bamboo  sliver. 

*  107 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


f 


Then  they  used  the  hot  iron  again,  and  the 
cork  was  taken  out;  the  lids  closed,  and  the 
hinge  was  made  wet,  and  the  oyster  was  tossed 
back  among  the  others,  and  only  the  great  pearl, 
large  as  a  man's  thumb,  nestled  in  the  trembling 
hand  of  Lahbo.  The  yellow  in  his  eyes  was 
streaked  with  blood-red  pencilings.  Surely  the 
pressure  had  driven  all  the  blood  to  his  brain 
— it  was  on  fire.  ,  He  strove  to  clutch  at  his 
throat — he  was  choking;  his  hand  refused  to 
obey;  a  deathly  numbness  was  creeping  up  the 
arm.  The  pearl  clasped  in  the  palm  of  his  hand 
was  ice;  it  was  freezing  the  blood,  and  all  the 
time  his  brain  was  on  fire — the  smoke  was 
smothering  him. 

He  tried  to  call  out;  the  muscles  of  his 
tongue  had  been  cut;  it  lay  like  an  idle  thing 
in  his  mouth.  Then  slowly,  inch  by  inch,  the 
freezing  crept  up  his  arm,  pricking  and  sting- 
ing like  a  thousand  points.  He  tried  to  grasp 
it  with  the  other  hand — to  shake  it  into  life 
again;  it,  too,  was  utterly  powerless. 

Then  he  knew. 

Back  across  the  shells  he  drooped,  his  eyes, 
with  the  red-streaked  yellow,  the  only  thing  of 
life  now  left  in  his  stiffening  body. 

Neyoung,  the  tender,  also  knew;  and  his 
black  eyes  glistened  with  a  new  light.  With  a 
io8 


STEALING    THE    BUDDHA    PEARL 

wrench  he  tore  open  the  stiffening  fingers 
which  clasped  the  pearl  and  slipped  it  in  his 
mouth. 

He  knelt  down  and  shoved  his  long  yellow 
arm  among  the  pots  and  things  stored  in  the  end 
of  ^he  boat.  He  found  what  he  was  searching 
for-a  ball  of  black  pitch.  Making  a  hole 
with  his  thumb,  he  shoved  the  pearl  in,  smoothed 
down  tht  pitch,  and  threw  it  carelessly  back 
where  it  had  lain  before. 

Then  he  called:  "Ho,  brothers!  Lahbo  is 
dead,    and  threw  the  canvas  down. 

They  rushed  aft  and  looked  at  Lahbo;  the 
eyes  of  the  paralyzed  thief  looked  back  at  them, 
and  they  knew  he  wasn't  dead-H)nly  hi.  mus- 
cles strangled  by  the  evil  spirits. 

Then  they  seized  the  oars  and  pulled  for  the 
Ruby,  for  the  wind  was  dead  and  the  sea  flat 
as  the  blue  sky  above  them. 

Mah  Thu  leaned  over  the  brass-studded  rail 
her  wrinkled  face  looking  like  yellow  parchment 
on  the  mirror  water,  as  she  watched  them  carry 
Lahbo  up  the  little  ladder  and  lay  him  on  the 
deck.  She  took  his  poor,  useless  head  in  her 
lap,  and  Hadley  watched  the  big  pearl  shells 
brought  up.  He  was  passing  them  through  his 
hands  when  he  suddenly  stopped  and  held  one 
out  toward  Mah  Thu. 

109 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

"That  is  one  of  then,  O  Thakine,"  she 
exclaimed. 

Lahbo's  eyes  tried  to  say  something,  but  they 
did  not  understand.  Mah  Thu  thought  he  was 
in  pain,  and  rocked  her  poor  bent  old  body  back 
and  forth  in  anguish. 

Hadley  brought  his  little  tub  close  to  Mah 
Thu  and  opened  the  marked  oyster.  There  was 
nothing  in  it — no  pearl. 

"  The  evil  spirits  have  stolen  it  1 "  cried  the 
woman. 

Again  the  eyes  that  were  in  the  dead  body  of 
the  paralyzed  diver  tried  to  say  something,  but 
nobody  understood  him — nobody  only  Ne- 
young.  He  knew,  and  he  muttered  to  himself : 
"  I  must  send  Lahbo  away  to  Nirvana,  or  those 
devil  eyes  will  tell  that  I  have  the  pearl." 

In  all  the  other  oysters  was  only  one  pearl 
— not  a  Buddha  pearl.  Mah  Thu,  Lahbo, 
and  Neyoung  were  sent  ba'-k  to  Mergui  in 
Lahbo's  boat.  And  all  the  way  in  Neyoung's 
eyes  war,  the  light  of  murder;  and  in  Mah  Thu's 
watchfulness;  and  in  Lahbo's  something  he 
wanted  to  tell,  and  which  nobody  understood — 
nobody  but  Neyoung. 

Hadley  continued  fshing,  but  no  more 
Buddha  pearls  came  his  way. 

One  moon  from  that  time  Neyoung  landed 
no 


STEALING    THE    BUDDHA    PEARL 

in  Singapore  from  the  "  B.  V  mail  steamer  to 
sell  the  stolen  Buddha  pearl  to  Rico,  the  Rus- 
sian  Jew.  That  was  Rico's  business— buyins 
stolen  pearls  from  divers. 

Rico  had  a  nose  for  pearls  keen  as  the  vulture 
instmct  that  finds  a  sand-buried  horse.  He 
swooped  down  on  Neyoung,  but  the  astute  Bur- 
man  would  not  show  him  the  Buddha  at  first 
He  played  Rico  for  a  time.  When  the  Jew  saw 
the  pearl  he  went  mad. 

Rico  had  seen  big  pearls,  and  bought  them, 
too,  but  never  anything  like  the  Buddha  pearl 
It  was  as  large  as  the  jewel  Tavemier  had  paid 
half  a  million  for  in  Arabia.    Rico  knew  that, 
for  he  knew  all  the  great  pearls  in  the  world. 
Ihe  luster  was  good  also.    Neyoung  dealt  like 
a  Burman  who  has  an  eager  buyer  after  him— 
suikily.    If  Rico  wanted  the  jewel  he  could  take 
It  at  the  tender's  price,  twenty  thousand  rupees; 
if  he  did  not,  then  the  Burman  would  take  it 
on  to  Freemantle,  in  Australia,  and  sell  it  to 
Simonski.     How  that  set  Rico's  bmin  on  fire! 
Simonsk.  to  get  this,  the  greatest  pearl  since 
the  time  of  T.vernier?     Not  if  it  cost  him 
ftfty  thousand;  but,  slowly-a  thousand  saved 
was  a  thousand  gained. 

So  for  days  they  fenced— this  subtle  Burman 
and  the  scienced  Jew. 

Ill 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

And  all  the  time  Neyoung  was  trembling  lest 
the  eyes  of  Lahbo  should  tell  Mah  Thu  of  the 
pearl. 

Then  one  day  the  sale  was  completed  Ne- 
young got  a  thousand  pounds. 

That  night  Rico  took  the  razor  he  kept  for 
that  purpose  and  cut  the  throats  of  twenty  fowls. 
It  was  a  sacrifice  to  the  god  that  had  sent  the 
pearl  to  him.  It  was  an  extravagance — he 
could  not  eat  them ;  biit  he  was  drunken  with  the 
wine  of  success.  He  had  never  committed  an 
extravagance  before;  also  had  he  never  come  by 
a  pearl  for  a  thousand  pounds  worth  twenty 
thousand. 

When  he  got  home  he  locked  the  door  of  his 
office  and  cherished  his  find.  He  opened  his 
vest  and  rubbed  it  against  his  heart.  He 
kissed  it  with  his  black,  snuff-smudged  lips.  He 
put  it  on  his  table,  and  sat  with  his  arms  folded 
in  front  of  it  for  a  long  time,  drinking  in  the 
beauty  of  its  vast  contour. 

Suddenly  he  gave  a  cry  and  sprang  to  his  feet. 
The  color  seemed  to  have  changed;  a  red,  murky 
tinge  had  given  place  to  the  faint  purplish  luster 
he  had  been  worshiping. 

He  sat  down  with  a  hollow  chuckle  and  gave 
a  sigh  of  relief;  it  was  only  a  passing  fancy,  or 
some  drunken  shadow,  for  the  pearl-white  was 
iia 


^ 


STEALING    THE    BUDDHA    PEARL 

back  again.  All  this  excir  ment  was  not  good* 
for  him,  he  thought.  He  would  put  it  away — 
lock  it  up  in  his  iron  safe,  where  it  would  be  out 
of  his  sight. 

When  he  touched  it  a  shudder  ran  up  his  arm. 
How  cold  the  thing  was!  The  perspiration 
stood  out  on  his  forehead  as  though  he  had 
taken  an  iced  drink.  When  he  placed  it  in  the 
safe  he  fancied  that  two  glassy  eyes  were  staring 
at  him  from  the  dark  interior.  Surely  the  ex- 
citement had  unstrung  him  a  bit.  When  it  was 
locked  up  he  felt  better;  besides,  the  thought  of 
the  great  gain  he  would  make  warmed  his  chilled 
blood. 

Next  day  he  sent  it  to  Dalito,  in  London,  for 
sale.  He  described  it  to  him  as  an  irregular, 
pear-shaped  pearl  of  great  luster,  weighing  one 
hundred  and  fifty  carats. 

Then  for  a  whole  moon  he  knew  no  rest.  He 
had  insured  it,  but  if  it  were  lost  or  stolen  I  It 
was  the  one  great  thing  he  had  achieved  in  his 
life. 

At  length  he  heard  from  Dalito,  but  the  let- 
ter only  increased  his  unrest.  Evidently  there 
had  been  some  mistake.  His  letter  had  stated 
that  the  pearl  was  pear-shaped,  of  great  luster 
—the  one  they  had  received  was  of  no  dis- 
tinct form  at  all,  but  approached  the  button- 
'"3 


m 

m 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

shape;  the  luster  was  bad,  of  a  reddish  cast; 
but  they  would  try  for  an  offer  in  the  London 
market. 

Rico  was  in  despair.  Somebody  had  stolen 
his  priceless  pearl  and  substituted  this  red,  form- 
less thing. 

Then  the  memory  of  what  he  had  seen  in  his 
own  office— that  red  shadow— came  back  to  him 
with  full  force— also  the  eyes  in  the  vault. 
What  if  this  were  a  ilevil  pearl— iie  had  heard 
of  them;  where  murder  had  been  committed, 
and  the  ill  luck  stuck  to  the  jewel. 

He  laughed  at  his  own  folly,  and  sat  dc^-n 
and  wrote  a  scathing  letter  to  Dalito.  He,  or 
somebody,  was  trying  to  rob  him,  he  wrote. 
Then  he  tore  it  up  hysterically,  and  wrote  a  be- 
seeching  one.  This  he  also  tore  up.  Next  he 
wrote,  he  hardly  knew  what,  and  waited  for 
further  news. 

The  second  letter  from  Daluo  stated  that,  on 
closer  examination,  the  pearl  seemed  to  be  of 
much  better  luster  than  they  had  at  first  thought, 
and  that  there  was  every  prospect  of  selling  it 
to  an  Indian  prince  for  a  very  fair  price;  they 
would  cable  him  the  offer  as  soon  as  received, 
before  closing. 

Rico  cut  the  throats  of  more  chickens  and 
wept  tears  of  gratitude.    Surely  it  was  good  to 
114 


STEALING    THE    BUDDHA    PEARL 

be  alive-and  deal  in  big  pearls.  He  prayed 
that  the  heart  of  the  Hindoo  prince  might  be 
made  to  lean  toward  him. 

The  next  letter  was  one  of  despair— despair 
on  the  part  of  Dalito.  They  had  sold  the  pearl 
simply  on  the  strength  of  their  guarantee  that 
It  was  of  good  luster.  Now  the  prince  had  sued 
them  for  damages,  and  brought  half  a  dozen 
experts  as  witnesses  who  swore  that  it  was  of  a 
vile  red.  They  had  been  forced  to  take  it  back, 
and  pay  costs,  bill  of  which  they  sent,  and  ex- 
pected  Rico  to  remit  the  amount.  Under  the 
circumstances  they  would  ask  to  be  relieved  of 
the  privilege  of  holding  the  jewel. 

The  only  thing  that  seemed  tangible  to  Rico 
m  the  whole  thing  was  that  the  pearl  retained 
its  weight  one  hundred  and  fifty  carats.    Verily 
if  It  had  not  been  for  that  he  would  have  cut 
his  own  throat  instead  of  the  chickens'.     He 
cabled  them  to  send  it  to  Antwerp.     There  it 
brewed  won-  mischief.     Two  men,  an  expert 
and  a  dealer,  got  into  a  wrangle  over  its  luster, 
and  wound  up  by  fighting  a  duel.    But  that  did 
not  settle  the  dispute,  for  there  were  other  ex- 
perts, some  of  whom  swore  it  was  red,  while 
others  declared  it  white.    But  to  sell  a  pearl  of 
one  hundred  and  fifty  carats  it  must  have  a 
steady,  sustained  reputation;  and  soon  Antwerp 
"5 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


i 


;i 


was  no  market  for  Rico's  prize.  The  Jew 
would  have  to  send  it  far  from  the  strife  it  had 
created  in  Europe,  so  it  was  transferred  to  a 
big  firm  in  Hong  Kong. 

Because  of  its  likeness  in  shape  to  Buddha, 
its  holder  there  narrowly  escaped  assassination 
twice  from  fanatical  Buddhists.  It  was  sold 
once,  and  the  seller  was  beheaded  for  defraud- 
ing the  buyer,  a  rich  mandarin. 

In  despair  Rico  had  it  brought  to  Singapore. 
He  would  at  least  se^  it  again.  Then  one  day 
a  brilliant  idea  came  to  him.  Angelo  had 
stopped  at  Singapore  on  his  way  to  Australia. 
He  was  on  a  trip,  and,  incidentally,  would  now 
and  then  dispose  of  a  few  pearls  that  had  stuck 
to  his  fingers. 

Rico  had  known  the  diver  for  years,  and 
knew  that  he  could  trust  him  to  carry  out  the 
mission  he  wished  him  to  undertake. 

"  Angelo,  my  friend,"  said  Rico,  "  my  house 
is  thrice  accursed  because  of  this  shadow  of  a 
heathen  god  that  changes  color.  I,  a  poor  man, 
have  given  a  thousand  yellow  sovereigns  to  a 
thief  of  a  Burman  for  it,  and  am  ruined.  For 
days  I  eat  lothing  because  of  the  poverty  that 
has  come  upon  me.  Simonski,  who  lives  in  Free- 
mantle,  is  rich;  he  has  robbed  and  cheated  the 
poor  divers — even  you,  too,  Angelo — and  now 
Ii6 


STEALING    THE    BUDDHA    PEARL 

he  is  rich.  Take  you  this  purple  devil  and 
sell  it  to  him  for  a  thousand  sovereigns,  even 
as  I  bought  it.  Of  a  surety  you  may  keep  a 
hundred  of  it  for  yourself.  Tell  him  that  you 
have  come  by  it  at  the  fisheries;  and  show  it  to 
him  when  you  are  both  calm  in  mood,  for  me- 
thinks  men's  passions  bring  the  blood-red  into 
the  unchristian  thing." 

Then  Rico  fairly  wept  at  the  loss  of  the  hun- 
dred  sovereigns,  and  the  disappointment  of  the 
great  chance  that  had  gone  by  him.  He 
chuckled  sneeringly  as  he  thought  that  Simonskl 
would  also  have  days  of  tribulation,  and  that 
presently  he  should  have  his  rival's  gold  in  his 
safe. 

"  He  will  buy  it,  Angelo,  he  will  buy  it,"  he 
said,  as  he  walked  up  and  down  his  ofBce  ex- 
citedly,  dragging  his  long,  talon  fingers  through 
his  yellow-gray  beard.  Then  he  stopped  and 
faced  the  diver,  looking  pleadingly  into  his  eyes: 
"  And,  Angelo,  if  you  get  from  Simonski  more 
—twelve  hundred  pounds,  or  even  more,  you 
will  bring  me,  a  poor  man,  my  thousand.  Thnik 
of  the  money  I  have  spent  in  commissions  and 
insurances — all  lost,  all  lost  I 

"  Surely  you  will  get  for  me  back  my  thou- 
sand  pounds;  but  if  not,  then  the  nine  hundred 
—that  you  will  get  for  me,  Angelo.     Remem- 
117 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

ber,  next  year  you  will  have  pearU  to  k11,  and  I 
will  pay  you  good  prices." 

Angelo  did  not  take  in  the  full  pathos  of  the 
Jew's  plaint;  but  he  made  up  his  mind  to  Meed 
Simonski  for  all  the  big  pearl  would  fetch.  Rico 
had  said  nine  hundred  pounds,  and  that  was  all 
he  would  get;  the  rest- would  be  his  perquisite 
for  working  Simonski. 

When  Angelo  landed  in  Freemantle  he  was 
met  at  die  steamer  Ijy  the  Jew.  The  diver  was 
diffident  and  haughty ;  that  proved  to  Simonski's 
astute  mind  that  he  must  have  something  good 
— something  very  good — up  his  sleeve. 

They  were  both  artists.  Angelo  was  Simon- 
ski's  "  dear  friend."  But  Angelo  answered  thai 
Simonski  had  paid  him  poor  prices  before;  this 
time  it  would  be  a  great  price — a  really  great 
price — more  money,  perhaps,  than  the  Jew  had. 
At  this  Simonski  grinned  and  smote  his  chest, 
and  was  on  the  point  of  making  a  boast  when 
he  suddenly  remembered  that  he  was  a  buyer, 
and  said:  "  Yes,  alasl  I  am  a  poor  man;  the 
divers  have  robbed  me  because  of  the  prices  I 
paid  them  until  I  am  poor.  Rico,  who  has 
robbed  the  divers,  is  very  rich." 

He  thought  he  saw  a  look  of  disappointment 
creep  into  the  eyes  of  Angelo.    "  But  I  can  bor- 
row the  money,  my  peerless  diver,  by  paying 
ii8 


STEALING    THE    BliUDHA    PEARL 

ruinous  intere»t,  lo  be  it  the  pearls  are  good. 
But  pearls  are  cheap — very  cheap  this  year. 
Big  pearls  sell  for  little  more  than  small  ones, 
because  everybody  is  poor— everybody  but 
Rico." 

But  not  even  that  day  did  he  see  the  pearl. 
Angelo,  who  had  come  by  the  cunning  from  his 
Spanish  father  and  the  patience  of  waiting  from 
his  native  mother,  knew  the  Jew  was  not  quite 
ripe. 

At  last  the  day  arrived  when  Angelo  became 
mellow  under  the  gentle  influence  of  the  Jew's 
alcoholic  friendship. 

Simonski  had  not  seen  the  pearl  before — the 
diver  would  never  show  it.  When  ht  jew  be- 
held its  size  he  thought  that  perhaps  he  would 
build  a  small  synagogue  if  the  favor  continued 
till  he  acquired  the  gem. 

Angelo  threw  his  arms  around  the  Jew's  neck 
and  kissed  him  like  an  impulsive  Latin.    In  the 

end  he  made  Simonski  a  present  of  the  pearl 

for  twelve  hundred  pounds. 

Then  he  took  the  nine  hundred  pounds  back 
to  Rico,  and  his  own  three  hundred  to  Mergui. 

Simonski  sent  the  Buddha  to  Dalito,  even  as 
Rico  had  done.    "  I  am  sending  you  the  great- 
est of  all  pearls,"  the  Jew  wrote;  "  it  ought  to 
bring  twenty-five   thousand  pounds   at  least." 
119 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

More  he  wrote,  for  the  words  cost  nothing. 
"  He  will  fall  in  love  with  my  queen  of  light 
when  he  sees  it,"  thought  the  Jew  poetically, 
while  he  waited  for  word  from  Dalito. 

The  London  dealer's  letter  was  hardly  a  love 
epistle  when  it  arrived.  "  This  accursed  bauble 
has  turned  up  again,"  he  said,  "  after  nearly 
ruining  my  reputation  as  a  respectable  mer- 
chant; or  else  there  has  been  a  shower  of  devil 
pearls  out  there,  and  you  have  each  got  one." 
He  refused  absolutely  to  have  anything  to  do 
with  negotiating  its  sale. 

Simonski  was  horror-struck.  Then  a  sus- 
picion crept  into  his  mind;  Dalito  was  crying 
down  his  jewel  because  of  its  priceless  value. 
Did  he  not  talk  that  way  himself  every  day 
when  buying?  But  this  was  too  serious  a  mat- 
ter;  a  pearl  of  that  size  I  It  was  beyond  cavil; 
he  would  teach  Dalito  a  lesson.  So  he  wrote 
to  a  trusted  Jew  friend  of  his  in  London  to  take 
it  over  to  Antwerp,  and  advised  Dalito  to 
deliver  it. 

It  landed  his  friend  in  jail  in  Antwerp,  and 
cost  Simonski  many  pounds  to  get  him  out,  and 
the  Buddha  back  again.  They  were  all  in 
league  to  cheat  him  out  of  this  fabulous  gem,  he 
knew,  for  had  he  not  seen  it  with  his  own  eyes? 
and  it  was  good. 

I20 


STEALING    THE    BUDDHA    PEARL 

Then  he  sent  i<  lo  Hong  Kong,  to  the  same 
firm  that  had  it  I  efore;  but  .'.  it  happened,  his 
letter  got  there  fit  t,  and  v.hri  the  jewel  arrived 
they  promptly  reshipped  it  lo  Simonski  widiout 
opening  the  case. 

When  it  came  back  he  was  nearly  crazy 
Day  and  night  he  had  paced  his  room  thinking 
of  the  mighty  pearl. 

Then  Simonski  thought  of  the  King  of  Bur- 
ma at  Mandalay.  He  paid  big  prices  for  jewels, 
and  was  not  so  particular  about  color  as  they 
were  in  London.  He  would  have  to  take  it  to 
Rangoon  to  reach  him.  So  he  went  at  once  to 
Rangoon,  to  Balthazar;  he  was  the  man  to  get 
at  the  king. 

All  this  time  Mah  Thu  had  been  trying  to 
find  out  something.  Her  little  yellow-bead  eyes 
were  always  watching. 

When  Neyoung  came  back  from  Rico— 
from  having  sold  him  the  Buddha  pearl— he 
spent  money  like  a  son  whose  rich  father  is  just 
dead.  Mah  Thu  saw  that.  Then  the  curse  of 
the  Buddha  pearl  fell  upon  Neyoung,  for  his 
money  melted  away  and  left  him  with  only  a 
craving  for  opium. 

When  Angelo  returned,  the  three  hundred 
pounds  he  had  got  so  cleveriy  from  Simonski 
were  not  to  be  spent  without  many  little  boast- 

121 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


»i 


ii 


ings.  To  have  done  up  a  Jew  of  Simonskl's 
caliber  was,  ot  a  surety,  cleverer  than  having 
gathered  many  tons  of  "  pearl  shell." 

Mah  Thu  heard  it  in  the  bazaar,  and  ques- 
tioned Angelo  about  it.  Yes,  it  was  shaped  like 
a  little  bronze  Buddha — much  like  the  little 
black  alabaster  Buddha  in  Mah  Thu's  lacquer 
box. 

Then  Mah  Thu  talked  to  Lahbo  about  it. 
She  had  learned  to  understand  the  eyes.  When 
he  shut  them  quickly,  that  was  "  Yes  " ;  when 
he  rolled  them,  that  was  "No."  Mah  Thu 
asked  him  questions,  and  he  answered — that 
was  their  language.  So  Mnh  Thu  asked  Lah- 
bo :  "  Did  you  see  the  Buddha  pearl  when  you 
dived  the  last  time?" 

The  eyes  that  had  been  always  trying  to  tell 
something  opened  and  closed  eagerly,  many 
times.    "  Did  Neyoung  steal  it?  " 

Again  the  eyes  answered  "  Yes." 

"  Did  he  bring  it  to  Mergui '  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Lahbo. 

At  last  Mah  Thu  understood  what  the  eyes 
had  always  been  trying  to  tell  her;  and  the  eyes 
looked  so  glad. 

It  was  plain  enough.  Neyoung  had  sold  it 
to  Rico,  and  Rico  had  sold  it,  through  Angelo, 
to  Simonsk^     When  cornered,  Neyoung  con- 

122 


STEALING    THE    BUDDHA    PEARL 

fessed  gladly  enough.  He  had  nothing  to  lose 
now;  he  was  starving;  and  if  he  went  to  jail, 
even  for  many  years,  he  would  have  plenty  to 
eat-and  they  would  allow  him  a  little  opium 
lest  he  should  die. 

"Yes,"  Angelo  said  when  questioned,  "I 
sold  the  devil  pearl,  the  thing  that  goes  red  and 
white  by  turns,  like  a  changing  lizard,  to  the 
Jew  at  Freemantle." 

But  there  was  no  law  broken  in  that;  so  the 
diver  had  no  fear-only  pride  at  his  cleverness. 
Hadley  followed  up  the  course  of  the  unfor- 
tunate pearl.  He  learned  that  both  Rico  and 
Simonsk,  had  failed  to  sell  it  in  Europe,  and 
that  the  Freemantle  Jew  had  gone  to  Rangoon 
w.th  ,t.  He  took  the  first  steamer  for  that 
port  himself  when  he  learned  this,  taking 
Angelo  with  h.m  to  identify  the  pearl.  He 
also  had  Neyoung's  written  confession  of  the 
theft. 

He  went  straight  to  Balthazar,  saying:  "  One 
bimonski  has  come  here  with  a  pearl.  Tell  him 
1  want  tovsee  him." 

Now,  Balthazar  had  the  Buddha  in  his  pos- 
session. When  Simonski  brought  it  and  he  saw 
'ts  great  size,  he  knew  that  the  spirits  of  his 
forefathers  had  sent  it  to  him  that  he  might  be- 
come  rich  among  men.  He  had  marveled  much 
•     •  123 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

at  the  Freemantle  Jew's  stupidity  in  not  sending 
it  to  Europe. 

He  was  a  man  of  much  silence  on  occasion, 
so  he  said  nothing  to  Hadley  about  this. 

The  Freemantle  man  thought  he  had  a  new 
purchaser  for  his  jewel  when  he  met  Hadley. 
"  Surely  the  pearl  was  worth  ten  thousand 
pounds,"  he  told  the  captain.  "  Never  had 
such  a  precious  thing  come  his  way.  Yes,  three 
thounand  pounds  was  its  price,  and  the  next  day 
he  would  show  it."  That  was  because  Bal- 
thazar had  it  then  in  his  hands  to  decide  about 
buying  it. 

The  captain  meant  to  seize  it  wheii  it  came 
into  his  possession.  But  that  night  it  was  stolen 
from  Balthazar.  Captain  Hadley  heard  thiii  in 
the  morning,  and  told  Angelo  of  it. 

"  Fernandez  has  stolen  it,"  said  Angelo;  "  he 
was  a  diver,  but  because  of  stealing  he  came  to 
Rangoon.  He  has  taken  it — he  alone  knows 
how  to  steal  and  sell  pearls.  These  Burmese 
know  only  to  steal  rupees."  Also  he  assured 
Hadley  that  he  would  get  it  for  him.  "  Give 
me  one  hundred  pounds,  master,  and  I  will  get 
it  from  Fernandez." 

Then  the  captain  went  to  Simonski  and  told 
him  that  the  Buddha  pearl  was  his;  it  had  beer, 
stolen  from  him  at  the  fisheries  by  Neyoung, 
124 


STEALING    THE    BUDDHA    PEARL 

and  he,  Simonski,  had  bought  it  from  another 
d.ver  Angelo.    Now  it  was  stolen  again,  and  he 
would  hold  the  Jew  responsible  for  its  value,  the 
three  thousand  pounds  he  had  said  it  was  worth 
The  Jew  saw  trouble  ahead.     He  swore  by 
the  beard  of  Abraham  that  he  had  never  said 
It  was  worth  three  thousand  pounds.    It  was  a 
vile,  gnarled  thing  of  infamous  color,  not  worth 
a  hundred  pounds.    He  had  been  ruined  by  it- 
it  was  an  accursed  thing,  bringing  nothing  but 
trouble  to  honest  men.     It  would  be  better  if 
they  never  saw  it  again;  and  the  thief  would 
go  to  perdition  because  of  it,  sure.     If  he  had 
asked  three  thousand  pounds  for  it  from  Bal- 
thazar,   that  was  because   the  Armenian  was 
rich,  while  he  was  a  poor  man  and  the  pearl 
had  ruined  him.     But  the  Buddha  had  been 
stolen  from  the  Armenian,  he  declared,  and  he 
would  make  him  pay  its  value,  three  thousand 
pounds. 

Simonski  was  in  despair.  If  he  recovered  the 
pearl,  Hadley  would  seize  it;  if  he  did  not  the 
captain  would  try  to  make  him  p  ./  its  full  value 
If  Balthazar  paid  him  for  it,  this  man  would 
seize  that.  Surely  evil  days  had  fallen  upon  his 
house. 

Captain  Hadley  was  also  uneasy.    To  come 
so  close  upon  the  jewel  and  then  lose  it  was 
"5 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


h 


really  too  bad.  It  would  be  difficult  to  grind 
the  money  out  of  the  Jew.  All  depended  upon 
Angelo's  being  able  to  get  back  the  pearl.  A 
hundred  pounds  should  fetch  it,  Hadley  thought, 
if  the  diver  could  get  at  the  right  man;  for  it 
would  be  difficult  for  a  thief  to  dispose  of  a 
jewel  as  large  as  the  Buddha  pearl. 

That  night  Angelo  brought  to  his  master  the 
stolen  Buddha.  Yes,  it  was  Fernandez  who  had 
taken  it.  But  he  had  given  his  master's  word 
that  nothing  shoult}  be  done  to  the  thief;  also 
had  he  paid  him  the  hundred  pounds — all  ex- 
cept ten  pounds,  which  he  had  kept  for  his  own 
trouble. 

At  last  the  Buddha  pearl  had  come  back  to  its 
rightful  owner.  Hadley  had  not  stolen  it;  he 
had  come  by  it  in  the  fishing  at  Pawa;  so  the 
curse  of  Crotha  fell  away  from  it  when  it  came 
into  his  hands. 

Crotha's  pearl  had  accomplished  much.  It 
had  humbled  Lahbo  and  Neyoung  and  Rico 
and  Simonski.  And  now  it  brought  good  for- 
tune to  Hadley,  for  he  got  twenty  thousand 
pounds  for  it  in  England  when  he  sent  it  there. 

He  gave  Simonski  five  hundred  pounds  at  the 
fmish.     He  declared  that  he  would  give  him 
nothing;  but  when  tears  stand  in  a  man's  eyes, 
what  can  another  man  do  ? 
126 


THE  NET  OF  LEO 

PHILIP  FLEMING.  Akyab,  was  Com- 
missioner of  Arakan,  Burma. 

Commissioners  arc  made  by  hard 
work,  from  honest  material;  Government  kisses 
seldom  go  by  favor,  notwithstanding  club  belief. 
The  Indian  Civil  Service  is  a  monastery 
wherein  men  are  consecrated  to  the  labor  of  em- 
pire  extension.  It  is  a  car  of  Juggernaut,  wheel- 
ing  the  new  religion  of  betterment  over  their 
worn  bodies. 

Commissioner  Fleming  was  a  giant  of  huge 
official  wisdom,  holding  codes  and  civil  proce- 
dure at  his  finger  tips.  The  governorship  of 
Uurma  would  accrue  to  him  as  surely  as  a  crown 
comes  to  the  rightful  heir.  Philip  Fleming  in 
the  lesser  hfe  was  a  babe,  holding  belief  in  the 
goodness  of  human  nature  until  it  stultified  itself 
in  large  type.  He  was  impregnate  with  such 
nch  juiciness  of  honor  that  he  had  in  his  own 
Kind  the  sublime  faith  of  an  ox. 

This  state  of  mind  was  altogether  before  the 
happening. 

127 


f> 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

Fleming  had  married  young.  If  marrying 
young  is  a  mistake,  in  his  case  it  was  seven  kinds 
of  a  mistake,  for  the  more  he  developed  the 
work  fever,  the  more  Helen,  his  wife,  became 
a  lily  of  the  field. 

An  impatient  man,  out  of  cause,  would  have 
developed  a  crisis;  but  Philip  waited,  almost  not 
understanding,  until  the  crisis  came  with  a  vehe- 
mence. 

It  is  not  a  story  for  new  reading;  it  is  so  old, 
old,  old. 

His  soul  was  in  his  work;  his  heart  was  really 
in  the  bungalow;  but  the  work  soul  cried  for  rest 
and  consolement  to  the  heart,  until  the  heart 
responsive  was  a  little  too  quiescent.  It  wasn't 
that  Helen  was  bad — just  selfish.  Somebody 
must  smooth  the  mold  to  the  lilies  that  toil  not, 
and  the  monastery  that  was  the  Government 
service  laid  heavy  penance  of  toil  on  its  zealous 
priest. 

Thus  the  old,  old  story  fructified. 

At  the  time  of  the  coming  of  the  crisis  Helen 
was  at  Darjeeling  with  the  children,  Roscoe  and 
Madge.  On  the  Akyab  rumor  board  she  was 
ill.  The  station  people  read  this  cynically;  they 
always  knew  far  more  than  they  knew — that's 
an  Indian  habit.  Then  one  day  the  commis- 
sioner was  called  suddenly  by  wire  to  Calcutta — 
128 


THE   NET   OF  LEO 

Helen  wai  ill.  In  two  weeks  Philip  returned 
with  his  little  boy  and  girl;  the  mother  was 
sleeping  under  the  sweet-perfumed  hill  deodars, 
and  their  cones  dropped  gently  on  the  little 
mound  in  summer,  and  the  snow  covered  it  pure 
white  in  winter. 

If  the  commissioner  had  worked  before,  now 
he  toiled. 

For  a  year  the  children  were  the  children  of 
an  ayah,  which  is  little  better  than  being  the  off- 
spring  of  Spartans.  If  Philip  could  have  s'.nt 
them  to  England  it  would  have  been  better;  but 
he  couldn't — his  heart  would  have  starved. 

A  commissioner's  bungalow  without  a  mis- 
tress is  as  useless,  socially,  as  a  convent;  in  fact, 
the  commissionership  is  a  dual  office,  social  and 
official.  So  Akyab  groaned  in  its  desolation. 
It  was  a  place  ill-favored  by  the  gods  most  abso- 
lutely, for  the  prev'ous  commissioner  had  come 
among  them  worse  than  single — he  had  brought 
a  Burmese  wife. 

Meetha  had  nursed  him  just  on  the  sloping 
bank  of  Styx — ^he  was  almost  rolling  in — up 
Pakan  way;  and  he,  with  unofficial  chivalry,  had 
married  her,  pucca — as  thoroughly  as  church 
and  state  could  seal  the  contract. 

So  his  tenure  of  office  had  been  a  social  blank ; 
and  now,  in  Fleming's  time,  the  big  bungalow 
129 


h 


in 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

was  just  a  homing  place  for  the  silent  man  who 
sent  dacoits  to  the  Andaman  Islands,  or  hantred 
them  out  of  hand. 

There  was  a  deputy  commissioner,  Jack 
Kawlton;  and,  also,  which  was  of  greater  im- 
portance,  he  had  just  the  cleverest  wife  that  ever 
took  an  Indian  station  in  hand. 

Maritally  ,he  was  in  love  with  her  husband, 
Jack;  psychologically  she  was  enamored  of 
I'hilip  Flemmg's  superb  qualities.  Quite  hon- 
estly  she  determined  to  ameliorate  his  condi- 
tion;  and,  diplomatically,  she  stirred  the  people 
mto  a  ferment  of  discontent,  to  the  end  that  the 
commissioner  might  be  harassed  into  a  properly 
amenable  frame  of  mind. 

Mrs.  Rawlton  had  a  sister  within  striking  dis- 
tance  of  Akyab.  Had  the  other  ladies  known 
of  this,  they  might  not  have  labored  so  enthu- 
siastically, nor  blindly  accredited  her  with  dis- 
interested motives  until  it  was  absolutely  too 

The  sister,  Mary  Kelvey,  was  in  Calcutta, 
and  quite  unaware  of  the  endeavor  of  Mrs 
Rawlton.  Even  when  Mary  stepped  from  the 
B.  I.  steamer  to  the  pier  in  Akyab,  and  was 
whirled  away  in  a  high  dogcart  to  her  sister's 
bungalow,  she  was  as  innocent  of  the  crusade 
as  was  Philip  Fleming. 

130 


clever 
;  breast 


THE   NET  OF  LEO 

Jack  Rawlton  was  not  in  it  with  his 
wife  at  putting  an  ear  to  the  palpitating 

the  utihty  of  having  a  sister-in-law  married  to 
a  man  who  would  one  day  be  chief  commissioner, 
he  could  undentand  that  much  of  diplomacy. 
After  all,  his  role  was  a  minor  one.    Mrs.  Rawl- 

dell  h  "k  'T'T  °^  ''"'"^'■"«  ''"  ^''«'  blun- 
dering husband  a  chance  to  wreck  the  play. 

The  little  stories  of  Philip  Fleming's  excel- 

lence,  chiefly  official,  which   Rawlton  told  at 

mlderin^"'""*  '"  """"'^  ^™'"  *"'*  ''''^''"'^ 
Mary  Kelvey's  advent  caused  a  renaissance  in 
tlie  dormant  sentimental  atmosphere  of  the  sta- 
tion.    She   was  beautiful,   which  was  excuse 
enough  for  this  change;  and,  in  addition,  new 
girls  didn't  fetch  the   Port  of  Akyab  often 
Hvery  mau  possessed  of  legitimate  right  to  fall 
in  love  with  a  woman  (and  some  who  weren't) 
cultivated  Mrs.  Rawlton.     This  phase  of  the 
case  was  absolutely  innocuous;  but  when  small 
dark  Laurence  Herbert  began  to  abstain  from' 
his    orever  and  ever  caustic  epigrams,   Mrs. 
Rawlton  m  defense  was  forced  to  confide  to 
Molly  that  Philip  Fleming  was  simply  waiting 
his  chance.    Herbert  was  all  very  fine  in  the  way 
of  romance,  but  Mary  hadn't  come  from  Cal- 
131 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


>, 


cutta  for  romance;  there  wai  plenty  of  that  in 
the  City  of  Palaces. 

Mary  Kelvey  had  manifestly  broken  Herbert 
of  his  q'liical  i'lhumanity — which  was  a  good 
thing  for  his  friends;  for  him  it  was  the  Bastile. 
Four  hundred  rupees  a  month  was  the  chain 
binding  him  to  the  rock  of  celibacy. 

The  sister  saw  to  it  that  Mary  viewed  Philip 
Fleming's  character  in  the  purple  and  fine  linen 
of  wise  interpretation,  until  the  glamour  of  the 
real  man  crept  into  her  understanding,  as  the 
droning  of  bees  wafts  soft  music  to  ears  lazy  of 
sleep. 

On  Fleming's  side  potent  influences  were  at 
work  to  enlarge  the  void  in  his  life. 

It  is  a  tenet  of  faith  held  of  the  Anglo-Indians 
that  ayahs  always  quiet  their  child  charges  with 
the  black  tears  of  the  poppy — the  little  pellets 
of  opium;  and  Mrs.  Rawlton  had  this  skeleton 
fear  brought  forth  and  made  to  dance  in  the 
mind  of  Philip  Fleming.  This  was  only  one  of 
the  many  things  that,  beyond  doubt,  shadowed 
the  lives  of  the  children  unless  they  should  ac- 
quire a  European  mother. 

Also  of  Philip  Fleming's  self:  paradoxically, 

the  intensity  of  his  official  endeavor  vacuated  his 

mind,  till  in  its  exhaustion  it  clamored  for  refill- 

ment  at  the   fount  of  sympathy.     The  club 

132 


THE   NET  OF  LEO 

whiit,  the  station  dinners  with  their  semiofficial 
chatterings,  the  vagaries  of  the  opium-saturated 
Arakanese— all  failed  utterly  by  way  of  com- 
pensation. 

Mrs.  Rawlton's  dominating  influence  forged 
a  connecting  link;  and  when  Philip  asked  the 
beautiful  girl,  half  his  age,  to  become  his  wife, 
she  answered  as  though  there  was  no  such  thing 
as  a  negative  in  the  philosophy  of  love. 

The  announcement  set  the  station  aghast,  like 
the  sweep  of  a  cholera  wave.  Somehow  they 
had  been  as  one  in  their  deductions  as  to  Flem- 
ing's natural  destiny:  an  official's  widow,  or 
maiden  of  his  own  age,  forty,  they  had  dedi- 
cated unanimously  to  the  governing  of  Govern- 
ment House.  Now  the  commissioner  was  to 
marry  Mary  Kelvey,  still  loitering  in  the  spring- 
time of  girlhood. 

It  would  make  quite  a  separate  story  to  chron- 
icle the  gentle  exhilaration  of  gossip,  all  full  of 
regret,  that  once  bitten  was  not  twice  shy  with 
the  commissioner. 

What  Mary  said  to  her  sister  is  of  this  story, 
for  it  was  of  the  vital  essence  of  the  second 
crisis.  "  Cid,  I  said  '  Yes,'  "  Mary  confided  to 
the  Deputy  Memsahib. 

The  sister  kissed  her,  and  said,  "  I'm  very 
happy,  Molly;  Philip  loves  you." 

133 


h 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

"He  didn't  say  anything  about  it,"  Mary 
answered.  ^ 

Mrs.  Rawlton  raised  her  evebrows.    "  Philip 
didn't  tell  you  he  loved  you'.  ^ 

"  Haven't  you  always  darioned  his  great  vir- 
tue  of  truth  and  honesty,  Cid  ?  "  »        '^'^ 

"I  don't  understand?" 
"  Just  that  he  has  proven  himself  all  that  you 
say.     He  might  easily  have  romanced  about 
We;  but  he  didn't.    As  I  remember  it,  there 
was  much  talk  of  happiness,  honor.  a„d  all 

''  Are  you  joking,  Molly?  " 

"  No;  his  declaration  was  in  keeping  with  our 

to  back  out.  He  doesn't  love  me  a  little  bit- 
he  just  wants  some  one  to  mother  the  children.' 
Oh  don  t  look  frightened;  the  Kelveys  never 
back  out  once  they  pledge  their  word-that's 
the^disadvantage  of  having  family  esprh  de 

"  Molly,  you're  mistaken.  Philip  is  one  of 
those  strong,  self<ontained  men  who  feel  a 
great  deal  more  than  they  express." 

"Yes,  he's  self-contained,  Cid.  But  if  I 
didn  t  actually  believe  that  what  you  say  is  true 

d  it    ;rf  ?r  ™-    ''  '  ^"'  "<=»•  °'  power: 
ful,  I  wouldn't  beheve  it.    But  he  must  care  for 

134 


THE   NET   OF  LEO 

me,  to  wish  to  make  me  ;iis  wife— don't  you 
think  so,  sister?"  ' 

Mrs.  Rawlton  saw  it  all.  Fleming  had  worn 
that  execrable  armor  of  reserve,  even  in  his  love- 
niaking,  a„d  Mary  was  simply  voicing  the 
doubts  which  this  had  left  in  her  mind.  How- 
ever  ,t  would  all  come  right,  she  knew. 

They  were  married  in  the  little  English 
church  that  nestled  in  the  mango  tope  like  a 
quamt  bloodstone.  The  bell  clanged  vocifer- 
ously; the  guests  brought  the  diplomatic  felici- 
tations of  higher  culture;  in  fact,  there  was  a 
brave  attempt  at  making  it  a  love  feast. 

But,  somehow,  the  little  god  seemed  to  have 
wandered  off  into  the  jungle,  or  to  have  hidden 
himself  m  the  pagan  shrine  that  was  a  white- 
washed  pagoda.  Perhaps,  even,  he  was  down  in 
the  little  bamboo  hut  where  Shwebo,  who  had 
been  married  that  same  day,  had  taken  Mindah, 
h.s  bride.  Shwebo  was  only  a  clerk  in  the  cut- 
chem;  so  if  Cupid  really  lingered  widi  him,  he 
was  at  best  but  a  poor  courtier. 

Intention  counts  for  little  if  everything  in 
environment  is  an  obstacle;  and  the  church  rit- 
ual seemed  to  have  exorcised  die  sister's  influ- 
ence.   Things  drifted  badly. 

Disenthralled,  Mary  became  a  bondwoman 
to  her  distrust  of  Philip's  love.    His  very  solid- 


h 


1  '1 

i»i  ill 

if. 

1 

1  r> 

THIRTEEN   MEN 

tudc  over  the  children  thrust  her  from  the  inner 
orcle  of  h.s  heart;  and  the  illogical  fantasy  thl[ 
she  was  there  simply  as  the  keeper  to  the  other 
woman's  children  grew  oppressively  huge  in  her 

Philip  knew  nothing  of  this.  At  first  his  hesi- 
tancy  of  expressed  sentiment  was  of  delicate  for- 
bearance-of  his  remembrance  always  that  he 
was  forty;  oddly  enough,  his  abnegating  gentle! 

Jf  ITr'''n'°  -^'^  "  '""'^  inconsideLion. 
If  he  had  really  trusted  more  to  the  blind  little 

tToubi*:/'''^  °'  '"^  ^""''"'-^  •>-  ^"3 
Something  of  his  cleavage  entered  into  the 

kedni  ''"'"".  ^'  '°y  'P^'^^  °f  the 
an715.r"!f"  \^0"J««"g  "  his  mother, 
and  With  Madge,  Mary  was  mother. 

over  thJ^lT""""/''"*  '^"^'^  '■*'  "8'y  "°»»'" 
over  the  lattice  of  restraint  until  even  the  serv- 

ants  talked.    They  always  do  m  India ;  but  wS, 

the  commissK,ner's  servitors  was  a  strange,  weird 

tale  that  had  come  of  the  ayah's  unwise  tongue 

h„  lui  f  T^  ''"*  '°^^  °^  "  '"  the  cook 
house  Abdul,  the  cook,  laughed  in  derision.  He 
was  a  Mussulman,  having  no  truck  with  the  de- 
vious  ways  of  many  gods;  so  he  muttered  "  Al- 
iah,  to  himself,  and  aloud  reviled  the  teller  as 
a  liar  of  much  magnitude. 
136 


fii  i 


THE   NET  OF  LEO 
"Listen,  brother,"  cried  the  ayah,  "if  this 

offend  a  Brahmin." 

"  G°  o".  tc"  us.  garrulous  one,"  sneered  Ah- 

I  u^"  "  ^''^'^  *•=  *y" :  P^haps  he  will 
also  call  thee  a  liar  when  thou  hast  finished,  for 
Baloo  beheves  nothing  when  he  is  sober,  and 
everything  when  he  is  otherwise." 

"  It  is  of  the  Mcmsahib,"  began  the  a-ah 
drawing  her  muslin  serai  over  her  silver  anklets. 
_^      Then,  indeed,  it  is  a  lie,"  declared  Abdul, 

for  if  ayahs  were  to  tell  the  truth  of  their 
Memsahibs  they  would  offend  other  than  the 
Brahmins." 

"Abdul,  thou  hast  swallowed  the  carving 
kn>fc.  I  speak  not  of  the  new  Memsahib— no, 
't  is  of  the  Commissioner  Memsahib  that  is 
dead  at  Darjeeling." 

"Oh,  indeed,  it  is  a  true  tale,"  sneered  Ab- 
dul ;     of  a  dead  woman  there  may  be  truth." 

'  What  of  the  story,"  pleaded  Baloo;  "  is  it 
a  new  one?" 

"Did  I  not  always  maintain  that  the  Mem- 
sahib  loved  the  babas?"  began  the  nurse. 

She  gave  you  a  silver  bangle,  ayah,"  remon- 
strated  Baloo. 

^^  "That   she  knew  of,"   interjected  Abdul; 
ayah  had  other  presents." 

137 


h 


111  i 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

The  woman  ignored  the  insinuation,  and 
continued:  "  As  I  always  said,  she  loved  the  little 
babas,  and  now—"  the  nurse  leaned  forward 
and  whispered— "she  comes  at  night  and  plays 
on  the  piano  for  them." 

"  How  can  one  that  is  always  asleep  know 
these  things?"  objected  Abdul. 

Twice  have  I  found  them  slumbering  by 
the  piano,"  continued  the  ayah;  "and  when  I 
asked  of  the  little  Sahib  the  why  of  it,  he  waxed 
cross  and  spoke  ill  of  all  Hindoos.  But  are  they 
not  my  charge,  thp  babas;  so  I  watched,  sitting 
b<!hmd  a  purdah— the  new  Memsahib  was  at  a 
i-"rra  khana " 

"  That  is  not  news,"  exclaimed  Abdul;  " am 
I  not  forgetting  my  art  dirough  the  cooking  of 
no  house  dinners?  I  might  as  well  be  on  circuit 
m  the  jungle." 

"  Have  patience,  cook,"  pleaded  Baloo;  "  it 
is  a  good  tale." 

"  The  new  Memsahib  was  at  a  hurra  khana 
as  I  watched,"  repeated  the  ayah,  "  and  there 
was  but  tl  ,  one  oil  lamp." 

"  Coulc  you  see  the  dead  Memsahib?"  que- 
ried  Baloo. 

"  No ;  but  I  heard  sweet  music.  And  at  once 
the  babas  came  from  their  beds,  where  I  had  put 

them  with  such  great  care " 

138 


THE  NET  OF  LEO 

Abdut""''  °^  '^'  "'""■  ''""«''•"  '««""Pted 
"The  A«Aa,  sat  by  the  piano,  and  the  soft 

M^hJll  'V  ^/  '"'  ^"""'''•'-    Then  the 
Mehja  came  blundering  with  a  noise,  and  the 

AeLlTK-r  ^^^^'l  ^**  I  had  driven  away 
„h,!f  Sahib's  mother.  Is  not  that  proof  that 
what  I  say  IS  true?" 
;;  Did  you  tell  master?  "  queried  Baloo. 
No;  ^hy  should  I?  The  new  Memsahib 
does  not  play  for  my  little  baia.,  and  have  I  n^ 
said  the  mother  loved  them  ?  " 

"  Certain  it  is  a  bad  sign."  declared  the  syce 
solemnly  "The  new  Memsahib  will  die,  or 
perhaps  It  IS  the  *«*<«." 

"  1  '*  if  ""^i*"  ""'"  °""'"  «^°««d  A«  nurse; 
th^  have  done  nothing  that  is  wrong." 

Still,  ayah,  perhaps  the  mother  is  coaxina 
tnem  away."  * 

It  is  because  of  ayahs  that  everything  in  India 
•s  known.  An  ayah  tells  an  ayah,  and  some- 
toes  that  ayah  whispers  to  her  Memsahib. 
So  the  ghost  tale  came  to  the  ears  of  Mary's 
sister  Mrs.  Rawlton  had  seen  with  wise  eyes 
the  foolish  discontent.  Now  it  was  time 
to  take  Mary  in  hand  with  decision;  and  she 
did. 

"  It's  no  use."  the  girl  answered;  "  no  woman 
10  X39 


h 


1     ■  I 


I  Mi 


^'ii 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

could  fall  !n  love  with   Philip— he  wouldn't 
allow  It.    I'm  the  second  to  discover  that." 
"  Hush,  Molly!    You  love  him." 
"  Not  a  bit.    Why  should  I  ?  " 
"  You  are  tragically  honest." 
"  Then  I'm  even  with  Philip.    We  are  both 
honest;  that's  all  there  is  to  it.     I'm  there  to 
look  after  the  dead  woman's  children." 
"  Philip  loves  you,  Molly." 
"  Cid,  do  you  know  what  I  think?    I  believe 
he  s  m  love  with  Helen." 
"  She's  dead." 

"  Perhaps  that's  why;  a  woman  can't  reason 
out  a  man's  motives." 

''  You  don't  try  to  reason  out  Philip." 
I'  It's  unnecessary,  Cid.  I  know  he's  aU  you 
claim  for  him.  But  a  woman  at  twenty-two 
can  t  love  a  man  simply  because  he  is  excellent 
in  office,  or  approved  of  at  his  club.  A  girl 
wants  love— the  thousand  and  one  things  that 
Philip  knows  nothing  of." 

"You're  just  talking  yourself  into  rebellion, 
Molly." 

"  I'm  starving  for  sympathy,  Cid.  Can't  you 
see  what  a  desert  I'm  in,  with  its  mirage  of  love. 
My  soul  is  parched— I  cry  out,  revolting  my. 
self  for  the  falseness  of  my  existence." 

"  Is  it  not  as  hard  on  Philip,  Molly?  " 
140 


THE   NET  OF  LEO 

Oriental  diplomacy,  conceived  this  plan  of  get- 
ting  a  governess  for  hi,  children.  It  is  all  'the 
children  with  him.  The  little  sentiment  he  can 
find  time  for  is  theirs." 

,'.'  J,.*j '•*  y°"  '"'«'»'  make  him  love  you  " 
Cid,  you  treat  the  grand  passion  as  a  doctor 
would  gout.  You  might  write  out  a  prescriptil" 
Honesty,  five  grams;  position,  ten  grain,;  official 
capacity,  twenty  grains;  mix,  and  it  .11  induce 
tove.  But  it's  worse  than  the  gout  mixture,  Cid. 
One  can  toss  that  horrible  stuff  through  die  win- 
dow ;  the  other  remains  in  one's  life  for  ever  and 

"  You  are  disloyal,  Molly." 
"  No  Kelvey  was  ever  that " 

pk'JSSr-    "  """»««"««'«*!.  P- 

"  But  about  Herbert,  Molly  " 

The  girl  laughed.    "  Don't  say  commonplace 

d»ngs,  sister;  die  half-castes  in  the  Telegraph 

Service  take  that  view  of  everything." 
He's  always  about." 

"Naturally;  he's  in  love  with  me,  I  fancy. 

If  I  had  married  him,  I  should  probably  be  in 

love  with  h.m.    I  didn't;  so  I'm  not." 

141 


f\ 


l'\. 


IM 


!:1 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

"  I  shall  write  to  headquarters  to  have  Her- 
bert transferred  to  a  place  of  hard  work." 

"You  needn't  trouble,  Cid.  Philip  willsoonsee 
the  hopelessness  of  it  all,  and  I  shall  go  away." 
"You  mustr't,  Molly— you  mustn't!"  Men- 
tion of  this  dreadful  alternative  stirred  Mrs. 
Rawlton  to  impatient  strides  up  and  down  the 
room.  "  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  Kelvey  shirk- 
ing her  duty?  Didn't  Ned  hold  that  stone  san- 
gar  against  the  Afridis  until—"  she  stopped  and 
put  her  arms  around  the  girl's  neck,  burying  her 
face  in  her  shoulder. 

"  Don't  worry,  Cid.  I'll  keep  the  Kelvey 
honor  as  bright  as  Ned  did.  But  this  is  worse 
than  holding  a  stone  fort  against  Afghans.  The 
house  is  haunted  by  the  other  woman's  spirit; 
her  presence  is  everywhere— was  she  a  great  mu- 
sician, Cid?" 

The  sister  started.  "She  was,  Molly;  but 
why  do  you  ask?" 

"  I'll  tell  you.  I  know  you'll  call  it  morbid 
fancy,  but  it's  not.  When  I  touched  the  keys 
of  the  piano,  her  piano,  a  spirit  wailed  back  at 
me  from  the  chords.  My  fingers  thrilled  with 
its  influence." 

"Too  much  quinine,  Molly;  it  gets  on  my 
nerves  sometimes." 

"  No,  Cid.     I've  heard  soft  music  at  night 
142 


THE   NET  OF  LEO 

when  there  was  nobody  in  the  room.  I  know 
somethmg  dreadful  will  happen-I  can  feel  it." 
...•  Jj'^u'"''!^'''"'  '^°"y-"    Mrs.  Rawlton 

.  ".^""'V/*'"""'^' '"*''«  way-  WithRos- 
coeitisall  my  mother,  my  mother.'  If  there 
w«  one  soul  that  loved  me,  I  shouldn't  mind; 

tiently.-'''  ""  ''""  ^°"'  ^°"''-  J"''  ^"'^  P"" 
it  will" '"''''  ''"*  '°°''*^'"8  ^^'^  ''"PPen.  I  know 

■.Ja^I  ""^"'^  ^P''"^  °^  "^  happening  material- 
ized  the  next  day. 

r  Jlt'*""^'!  T*'"  "'^"y"  '^'"=''  togrther  at  the 
Gymldiana  Club  on  Saturday  night.  This  was 
Sahirday  and  the  commissioner  broke  bread 
with  his  brother  officials. 

When  he  returned  home  he  found  Roscoe  and 
Madge  asleep  in  each  other's  arms  on  the 
matted  floor  by  the  piano.  In  his  astonishment 
he  called  sharply,  "  Mary!  " 

The  ayah  came  from  the  servants'  quarters. 
Call  your  Memsahib,"  Philip  commanded. 
Memsahib   going  to   Dep'ty  Memsahib's 
bungalow,     the  woman  answered  in  confusion. 
143 


f\ 


i     : 


[i  r  'I  i\ 


Mil 

J!  i 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

Of  the  children  the  ayah  knew  nothing;  the 
Sahib's  fierce  questions  brought  forth  nothing. 
Of  the  spirit  music  she  spoke  not  at  all;  nor  of 
anything,  but  that  she  put  the  babas  in  their 
cots,  and  she  was  a  poor  woman  that  sometimes 
fell  asleep  on  the  veranda  when  saying  her 
prayers. 

Philip  carried  the  children  to  their  room;  as 
his  hand  rested  for  an  instant  on  the  boy's  fore- 
head he  found  it  hot.  The  sea  night  wind  that 
always  carried  pisflential  fever— why,  no  man 
can  say— was  blowing  straight  up  the  harbor 
neck  between  the  lighthouse  and  Scandal  Point, 
and,  sweeping  in  through  the  open  door,  it  had 
smitten  the  thin-dad  lad  as  he  slept  and  poisoned 
him. 

Philip's  heart  in  its  anger  grew  as  hot  as  the 
fevered  brow  of  the  boy.  Molly's  indifference 
to  himself  he  could  understand.  He  felt  he  was 
very  much  of  a  machine,  an  official  plodder;  the 
dust  of  the  cutcherri,  no  doubt,  had  clogged  the 
buoyant  working  of  his  mind  until  he  was  as 
hopelessly  dull  as  the  big  alabaster  image  of 
Gaudama  up  a    he  pagoda. 

But  surely  the  children  should  have  crept  into 
her  heart  a   little.     Now  one  of  them  was 
stricken,  and  she,  who  should  have  been  a 
mother  to  them,  was  away. 
144 


,;hi 


THE   NET   OF  LEO 

"  Sit  here  with  the  children,  ayah,  till  I  re- 
turn," he  commanded. 

Passing  out,  he  stood  for  a  minute,  an  un> 
utterable  weariness  of  lonely  feeling  in  his  face, 
his  eyes  wandering  over  the  big  room.  The 
dreariness  of  it  struck  into  his  heart. 

Fronting  the  bungalow,  the  salt  waters  lapped 
and  moaned  as  the  fever  wind  drove  them  slug- 
gishly up  the  flat  beach.  How  different  was  his 
homecoming  to  what  it  might  have  been  I  That 
the  fault  was  undoubtedly  his,  lessened  not  the 
aspect  of  desolation. 

A  tucktaw,  somewhere  in  the  leaf  roof, 
echoed  in  dreary  monotone  the  bitter  cry  that 
was  in  his  soul.  "  Tucktaw,  tucktaw  1 "  Nine 
times  Philip  counted  the  lizard's  grating  cry;  and 
then  at  the  end,  a  long-drawn-out  "  Aw-w-w !  " 
as  if  in  derision  of  his  futile  longing  for  hap- 
piness. 

A  tucktaw  was  a  harbingei  good  fortune, 
in  the  belief  of  that  land  of  beliefs.  There  had 
been  one  in  the  bungalow  before  Helen  was 
kissed  to  sleep  by  the  death  angel;  then  it  had 
gone  away — at  least  this  was  the  first  time  hi 
had  heard  the  dreary  rail  for  months.  But  there 
was  little  prospect  of  good  fortune  this  forlorn 
night  of  the  luck  lizard's  advent. 

It  was  as  though  nothing  slept;  as  though 
Hi 


'f 


I 


HI 


m 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

with  darkneM  itiiKry  came  down  to  earth  and 
stalked  gaunt,  uniatiified,  rapacious  of  human 
housing.  These  fantastic  voices  of  the  night, 
striking  with  fierce  sweep  the  tense  heart  chords 
of  the  listener,  had  stilled  Philip  to  a  moment 
of  silent  meditation. 

Suddenly  a  sweet  note  fell  upon  the  depressed 
man's  ear.  He  turned  his  head  sharply;  he 
could  have  sworn  it  was  from  the  piano.  Some- 
thing in  the  exquipite  pathos  of  the  low  vibration 
echoed  in  his  memory.  In  his  young  li  fe,  Helen's 
fingers  used  to  wander  over  the  keys  idly,  claim- 
ing from  the  chords  a  sweet  response  of  sym- 
pathy. In  those  days,  a  rose  blossom,  a  murmur 
of  music,  had  fitted  to  their  careless  happiness. 
He  took  an  eager  step  and  listened  again. 
The  adagio  had  ceased — there  was  nothing.  It 
was  as  if  his  close  presence  repulsed  all  gen- 
tleness. 

Down  on  the  beach,  silhouetted  in  the  moon- 
light, he  could  see  a  pair  of  jackals  wrangling 
discordantly  over  something  the  ebbing  tide  had 
stranded  on  the  black  sands. 

Philip  laughed  in  bitterness.  Was  not  his  life 
more  like  that — ^was  not  the  soft  music  but  the 
creation  of  his  own  yearning? 

Impatient  with  himself,  yielding  again  to  new 
anger,  he  strode  into  the  moonlight. 
146 


THE    NET   OF   LEO 

Ai  he  paued  down  to  the  metaled  road,  the 
champacs  stirred  lazily  in  the  fever  wind,  their 
white  blossoms,  yellow-hearted,  revolting  his 
tensioned  spirit  with  their  heavy,  sensuous 
breath.  Bah!  They  choked  him — smothered 
him.  He  almost  ran  to  the  straight,  broad  road ; 
then  over  its  hard  floor  he  swung  with  fierce 
stride,  under  the  octopus  limbs  of  the  over-lacing 
banyans  that  threw  weird  serpentine  shadows 
across  his  path.  Somehow  the  fantastic  night 
picture  was  one  of  Dore's  Inferno  conceptions. 
Then  the  road  dipped  lower  toward  the  sea 
beach,  and  the  spirelike  casarinas — wives  of 
Neptune,  that  die  from  out  his  embrace — caught 
the  whispering  wind  in  their  singing  bows  and 
wailed  softly  to  the  human  that  sped  so  swiftly 
at  their  knees. 

Between  two  white  pillaw  that  looked  like 
tombstones,  Philip  turned  into  the  Rawlton 
drive;  within  the  lighted  bungalow  he  could  see 
Mary — happy  from  out  his  presence. 

Philip  checked  his  eager  way  and  gazed  with 
hot  eyes  at  a  picture  that  seared  his  heart :  beside 
his  wife  the  lamplight  limned  in  sharp-cut  lines 
the  face  of  Hertert. 

This  was  why  Mary  had  left  the  children  to 
the  ayah's  care.     More  than  once  Philip  had 
fancied  a  sense  of  uneasiness  over  Herbert. 
147 


THIRTEEN   MEN 
When  the  liveried  Durwan  stepped  into  the 

A^Jr'^M    TT'"^'    "C°"""i"ioner   Sahib 
ha,t      Mn  Rawlton  could  have  risen  in  anger 
and  grasped  w.th  strong  hands  the  slender  oL 
throat  of  Laurence  Herbert-as  appeal  against 
the  erratic  cruelty  of  fate.    His  coming  had  been 
such  a  chance-a  lucidess  chance.    Fate,  in  the 
Z       H  °K    '    P»«'"'-*«='"P"»d    pony,    had 
Arown  Herbert  to  earth  with  such  emphatic 
force  that  his  b(.ttered  nerves  had  shirked  the 
club  dmner,  and  to  escape  the  desolation  of  his 
silent  bungalow  he  had  wandered  over  to  the 
Kawltons. 

In  Philip's  face  Mrs.  Rawlton  read  the  anger 
of  cumulative  suspicion. 

"  I've  come  for  you,  Mary— Roscoe  is  ill  » 
the  commissioner  said,  with  the  slow  drawl  of  a 
set  purpose.  For  a  moment  Mary  gave  no  sign ; 
she  was  thinking  that  Philip's  anger  was  for  the 
neglect  of  the  children,  not  because  he  had 
missed  her.  Mrs.  Rawlton  looked  curiously 
from  face  to  face.  On  Herbert's  was  a  cynical 
look  of  amused  pity. 

Mrs.  Rawlton  spoke  first,  with  decision,  for 
she  detected  rebellion  in  her  sister's  face : "  Come 
«nd  get  your  wraps,  Mo^y.  Sit  down  for  a 
minute,  Philip." 

In  the  room  she  spoke  with  large  wisdom  to 
148 


|!:li 


THE    NET   OF   LEO 

the  girl,  saying  over  and  over  again :  "  Don't 
speak— don't  utter  a  word,  unless  you  say,  '  I'm 
sorry.'  Leave  the  matter  of  Herbert's  being 
here  to  me— I'll  settle  that.  Now  go— quick !  " 
Mrs.  Rawlton  went  with  them  to  the  tom- 
tom. 

As  the  gray  Burma  pony's  small  hoofs  beat  at 
the  beach  road  with  the  rattle  of  a  .snare  drum, 
the  two  angered  ones  sat  upright  and  silent  in 
the  cart  that  slipped  swiftly  in  and  out  the  tun- 
nels  of  banyan  shade  that  were  dark  caverns  in 
the  moonlight. 

Perhaps  it  would  have  been  better  had  Philip 
talked  to  Mary  then;  for  when  he  did  give  voice 
to  his  bitterness  in  the  bungalow,  the  boy's  fe- 
vered face  had  drawn  his  thoughts  to  the  chil- 
dren again,  and  his  strong  complaint  was  of  her 
evident  lack  of  affection  for  them.    If  he  had 
only  spoken  of  his  own  loneliness— of  a  craving 
for  her  love— she  would  have  rejoiced;  but  he 
was  forever  and  ever  relegating  her  to  the  posi- 
tion  of  a  governess.    That  was  her  misconcep- 
tion ;  in  reality  he  had  come  to  look  upon  her  love 
as  too  great  a  thing  to  ask.    He  also  misunder- 
stood.    His  age  appalled  him.    He  might  have 
known  that  a  girl  of  twenty  could  not  come  to 
love  a  man  of  forty,  whose  years  of  delving  in 
dusty  official  records  had  made  him  old  indeed. 
149 


^:| 


! ! 


1 1  i 

ill 


' ;  !i : 


i<  iii  ■ 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

Not  undemanding  each  other,  the  foolish 
thougft  that  they  had  blundered  crept  into  their 
words,  and  they  drifted  in  a  sea  of  anger  that 
set  their  life  craft  against  a  cleaving  rock  of  de- 
struction. Mary,  possessed  of  the  sin  of  impetu- 
osity— which  is  a  quick  gamer  of  evil  results — 
picturing  a  false  hopelessness  of  striving,  asked 
Philip  to  let  her  go  away.  He,  thinking  she  was 
utterly  weary  of  him,  consented. 

When  Mrs.  Rawlton  knew  from  Mary  of  this 
she  writhed  in  hopelessness.  It  was  the  very 
emptiness  of  the  quarrel  that  rendered  her  im- 
potent;  there  was  nothing  tangible  to  go  upon. 
How  could  a  sane  woman  deal  with  fancies,  or 
explain  them  away  ?  It  was  all  as  clear  as  noon- 
day to  her.  Mary  was  practically  jealous  of  a 
dead  woman;  that  certainly  was  a  fancy  difficult 
to  combat.  She  was  jealous  of  the  children;  but 
to  attempt  to  prove  that  Philip  did  not  love  the 
little  ones  would  be  absurd.  Possibly  the  hus- 
band was  jealous  of  Herbert;  but  as  there  was 
absolutely  so  little  cause,  Mrs.  Rawlton  could 
not  even  mention  the  subject  without  making 
trouble. 

So  she  just  sat  still,  after  a  little  attempt  at 
reason  with  Molly,  and  waited. 

The  boy's  fever  had  been  checked — he  was 
almost  well  again — but  still  the  quarrel  was  un- 
150 


THE    NET   OF   7.E0 


healed;  Mary  was  to  go  to  Calcutta  by  the  first 
steamer. 

Up  to  the  very  evening  before  steamer  day 
Fate  had  shown  no  inclination  to  interfere. 
That  evening  the  commissioner  was  suddenly 
called  to  Padouk.  He  went  in  his  steam  launch, 
and  by  traveling  all  night  would  return  in  the 
early  morning  before  his  wife  departed.  Mrs. 
Rawlton  had  Mary  for  the  evening,  and  toiled 
without  avail. 

As  the  girl,  leaving  the  sister's  bungalow, 
turned  her  cart  between  the  two  white  stones  of 
the  gateway  the  pony  swerved  and  a  man's  voice 
came  out  of  the  darkness,  saying,  "  Pull  up, 
Molly — I  want  to  talk  with  you." 

She  reined  in  her  pony,  and  the  syce  caught 
him  by  the  head.  Herbert  came  forward  and 
stood  by  the  wheel.  "  Send  Baloo  ahead, 
Molly,"  he  pleaded,  "  and  walk  home." 

"  I  don't  like  it,  Laurence." 

"Just  to  say  good-by,"  he  begged;  "  it's  the 
last  time." 

The  girl  descended,  and  the  syce  led  the  pony 
ahead  of  them. 

"You  shouldn't  have  waited  for  me,"  she 
said;  "  it's  not  right — I  don't  like  it." 

"  It  was  a  fluke,  Molly — honest.  I  was  going 
in  to  Rawlton's  when  I  saw  your  trap.  Your 
IS! 


u\ 


W\ 


M'l 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

sister  wigged  me  for  being  there  the  other  night. 
Are  you  really  going  away,  Molly?  " 
"  To-morrow." 

"Is    it    anything— am    I    to    blame — did 
Philip » 

"  Nobody  is  to  blame." 

"  You  are  coming  back?  " 

"  Never." 

"  What  is  to  come  of  it,  Molly?  " 

The  girl  sighed  wearily.    "  I  don't  know: 

••  •  There  is  t  door  tu  which  I  find  no  key ; 
There  is  i  veil  put  which  I  cannot  see.'  " 

They  walked  a  little  in  silence,  then  Herbert 
added : 

"  '  And  i<  there  tillc  awhile  of  me  and  thee  i '  " 

"  No.    '  No  more  of  thee  and  me.'  " 

"  You  are  more  cruei  than  the  tentmaker — 
you  harden  his  words." 

"  Omar  was  a  Persian,  and  said  more  than  he 
meant;  I  am  English,  and  say  less." 

"  But  has  Philip  decided  on  anything— arc 
you  to  be  free?" 

"  I  am  going  away— that  is  aU  '  between  thee 
and  me,'  Laurence; 

"  '  The  stars  are  setdng  and  the  Canvui 
Starts  for  the  Dawn  of  Nothing^—.'  " 
152 


THE    NET   OF   LEO 

"  It  is  dark  going,  Molly." 
"  Yes ;  but  it  is  darker  staying." 
They  were  at  the  gate.  The  syce  had  gone 
on  to  the  stable;  and  the  two  went  in  between 
the  opium-breathed  champacs,  the  mottled-leafed 
crotons  brushing  the  girl's  cheek  as  she  walked, 
like  fingers  of  remonstrance  touching  her  in  a 
friendship  of  caution. 

"  When  you  are  free,  Molly—"  Herbert  be- 
gan; but  she  stopped  him,  interrupting,  "  I  am 
not  free,  Laurence;  I  am  Philip  Fleming's  wife." 
"  I^  haven't  forgotten  that,  Molly.  You 
needn't  caution  me.  Fleming  is  your  husband, 
and  he's  my  friend;  that's  the  bitter  part  of  it. 
When  we  dine  together  at  the  gym  we  eat  the 
same  salt,  and  I'm  bound  to  a  rock  of  despair 

like  Prometheus " 

"  You  should  bind  your  tongue,  Laurence; 
you  shouldn't  say  diese  things  to  me." 

"  There  is  no  sin  in  actuality;  I  suffer  the  most 
over  it.     You  don't  love  him— you  are  going 

away.    When  you  are  free,  Molly " 

They  were  at  the  bungalow  veranda.  The 
girl  slipped  up  the  steps,  and  reached  down  her 
hand.  "  Good-by,  Laurence."  she  said  softly; 
"  you  must  stop  even  thinking  of  me." 

He  followed,  clinging  to  the  small  white 
hand. 

IS3 


THIRTEEN    MEN 


I 


"  Molly,"  he  whispered,  "  can't  I  wait?  Tell 
me  " — he  was  at  her  side. 

Suddenly  a  soft  strain  of  music  stole  between 
the  purdah  and  the  door  casement.  Herbert  felt 
the  hand  he  held  tremble.  Involuntarily,  on  tip- 
toe, they  stole  to  the  curtained  door.  Just  as 
they  gained  it  Herbert's  foot  struck  a  chair  and 
it  clattered. 

Then  a  boy's  voice  came  to  their  ears,  saying: 
"  Don't  jump,  Madgie;  it's  father's  topee 
blowed  from  the  rack  again — it's  always  tum- 
bling." 

"  I  don't  tare ;  it  s  mean.  Now  your  mudder'U 
doe  away,  and  we'll  has  to  doe  to  bed,  'tause 
there's  no  moosic.  I  wish  my  mudder's  tum 
home,  tause  I'se  so  sleepy." 

Herbert  felt  the  girl  at  his  side  shiver. 

"  Let's  go  to  bed,  Madgie,"  the  boy  pleaded. 

"  No,  I'se  doin'  to  wait  for  my  mudder;  I 
wants  a  tiss." 

"  I  wish  my  mother  would  kiss  me,  but  she 
jes'  plays  for  us,  cause  she's  dead  and  can't  come 
to  kiss  us.  Your  mother  is  going  away  to  Cal- 
cutta, Madgie,  and  then  you  won't  have  any 
mother." 

"No;  she's  not." 

"  Yes,  ayah  told  me." 

"  Den  I'll  doe,  too." 

154 


THE   NET   OF  LEO 

"  I  won't,"  replied  the  boy  sturdily.  "  Your 
mother  doesn't  love  me.  I  don't  believe  she 
loves  you,  Madgie,  'cause  she  never  plays 
for  us." 

"  She  tisses  me  sometimes,  Ross.  Folkses 
don't  tiss  you  ef  dey  doesn't  love  you." 

"  She's  nice  when  she  stays  with  us,"  offered 
the  boy  in  the  way  of  reparation. 

"  She  doesn't  stay  much  with  papa,  neever; 
but  papa  loves  her,  and  tourse  she  loves  him, 
tourse  everybody  does." 

"Come  to  bed,  Madgie;  I'm  awful  sleepy. 
Papa'U  be  cross  if  he  catches  us  here  again." 

"  I'se  going  to  wait  for  my  mudder;  I  want 
a  tiss." 

Herbert  felt  a  small  hand  catch  him  by  the 
arm,  and  he  was  drawn  silently  along  the  ve- 
randa, and  down  the  steps  until  he  stood  beside 
the  crotons. 

"  Good  night,  Laurence,"  the  girl  said,  hold- 
ing out  her  hand. 

"  When  you  go  away,  Molly " 

"I'm  not  going — ^you  are;  Cid  is  going  to 
have  you  transferred." 
"Have  me— what?" 

"  Can't  you  understand  ?  Did  you  hear  noth- 
ing? Don't  you  think  God  put  the  little  chil- 
dren there  to  talk  to  us?  " 

"  155 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

Herbert's  head  drooped.  "  Good-by,  Molly," 
he  said;  "  you  are  a  brave  little  woman — I  was 
a  coward;  you  are  right." 

"  I  was  also  a  great  coward,  Laurence,  seeing 
evil  shadows  where  there  was  only  light.  See 
how  foolish  I  was — such  a  trivial  thing  has 
opened  my  eyes.  Cid  was  going  to  send  you 
away  for  my  sake,  but  that  was  nonsense,  Lau- 
rence. For  your  own  sake  I  think  you  had  better 
go.  Good  night;  Madge  is  waiting  for  her  kiss 
— good-by." 

He  touched  the  hand  he  held  with  his  lips, 
and  went  out  through  the  riotous  perfume  of 
champac  to  the  metaled  road  that  was  dreary  in 
its  hardness. 

The  girl  passed  swiftly  along  the  veranda. 
As  her  heels  clicked  on  its  hard  floor  she  heard 
Madge's  voice  cry  out:  "Wait,  Ross;  here 
timis  my  mudder;  wait  'til  I  det  a  tiss." 

What  had  come  over  her  mother,  Madge 
wondered;  a  thousand  kisses  lay  upon  the  lips 
and  eyes  and  cheeks;  and  hot  tears  rained  upon 
the  little  face,  and  damped  the  curls. 

"  Div  Ross  some,  too,  mudder,"  the  child 
pleaded ;  "  Ros.^^  is  awful  lonesome  because  he 
tan't  det  no  tiss  from  his  mudder.  You  ain't 
doin'  away,  mudder,  is  you  ?  Ross  told  a  fib  dus 
to  tease,  didn't  he?" 

IS6 


THE   NET  OF  LEO 

to  1^°'  •'i!'"'*'"*''  ""''  »^«*"rt.  I'm  going 
to  stay  with  you  and  papa."  * 

n^L^^JV  """^''^y  ^°y  »°  *«=»  fibs,"  com- 

^;;hJsi'^^;.*'^-'^^^''''"-i"'i-Hc 

out  of  a  r'l  ;  '""  ""°  "  ''''^'""'J  °f  love 
doJi  vt  !''  *^"'"  °'  "''8'«*'  *«'>  eyelids 
dosed  with  the  pressure  of  mother  lip,.  a„d 
gentle  hands  that  tucked  them  in  with'tender 

thAV'''^''"'"*""''  ^'"y  ""  '^'de-eyed  in 

In  Z7     "^""'^  '''^"^  '^'  «°°''  -d  stole 
on  tiptoe  many  times  to  their  cots.    The  hours 

were  ages;  the  night  a  span  of  life;  even  tim" 
eemed  to  sleep  while  Mary,  incapable  of    eTt 
awaited  the  coming  of  Philip 

What  would  he  say?     In  her  own  joyous 
transition  she  had  not  thought  of  this.     ^ 

dre^ed  as  she  was,  upon  a  couch,  and  tried  to 
seep  She  must  have  dozed.  She  found  herself 
standing  on  the  floor  with  an  echo  of  music  in 
her  mind.  Had  she  dreamed  it?  But  it  w« 
terribly  real-it  was  ghostly. 
The  light  was  breaking.    She  went  out  from 

red  rubble  drive.    The  breath  of  dawn  was  per- 
157 


K» 


i'l 


111 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

fumed  from  the  gentle  kiu  of  jwrnine.  From 
down  the  road  a  whir  of  rapid  wheeli  came  to 
the  girl't  ear»;  it  would  be  Philip.  She  went 
inside  and  waited.  Ai  Philip  came  into  the 
bungalow  ahe  stepped  forward,  and  stood  look- 
ing at  him  in  silence. 

"  You  are  up  early,  Mary,"  he  uid. 
"  I  haven't  been  in  bed." 
"  What  I    And  going  on  a  journey?  " 
"  I'm  not  going,  Philip." 
"  You're  not — "  he  stopped  and  looked  at  her 
as  though  he  had  nqt  heard  aright. 

"  I  want  to — stay  with  you,  and — the  chil- 
dren— if  you — if  you  wish  it."  She  spoke  with 
slow,  timid  emphasis.  "  I  was  wrong  about  my 
own  feelings — I  couldn't  understand — I  thought 
no  one  loved  me  here,  but  Madge  does;  and  if 
you—"  The  girl  stopped,  lamely,  trying  to  say 
what  was  in  her  heart. 

Philip  knew  he  should  answer— should  say 
something;  but  bells  were  ringing  in  his  ears; 
queer  jumbled  words,  inanely  empty,  were  con- 
fusedly rampant  in  his  mind.  He  did  just  the 
wisest  thing;  he  put  his  big  strong  arms  about 
the  stammering  girl,  and  said:  "  Hushl  Don't 
say  anything  more.  I  thought  the  bungalow 
looked  so  dreary  in  the  gray  morning;  and  now 
OGod,  I  am  happy  1" 

158 


THE   NET   OF  LEO 

When  the  love  god  tits  between  two  people, 
iio'iding  their  hands,  all  troubles  are  brushed 
away  with  the  fairy  wand  of  trust.  And  in  ail 
the  girl's  story  of  the  night  there  was  but  one 
troublous  thing— the  weird  music,  for  Philip 
himself  had  known  of  it. 

But  the  piano  was  forced  to  give  up  its  secret. 
When  Philip,  in  the  way  of  investigation,  re- 
moved the  front,  a  silly  mouse,  diat  had  built  a 
nest  within,  of  the  felt  and  strings,  startled  by 
the  light,  clattered  up  the  vibrant  wires  and 
scuttled  across  the  floor. 


«S9 


^1 


» 


MAHNET 

PHOBAH  was  king  of  the  Yenan  district. 
Yenan  is  halfway  from  Rangoon  to 
Mandalay,  in  British  territory;  and 
Phobah  was  only  a  dacoit,  yet  he  was  king  of  the 
district.  He  took  toll  in  rice  or  rupees  or 
heads;  or  sometimes  in  all  three,  just  as  it 
pleased  his  pagan  fancy. 

Langworth  was  siiperintendent  of  police  and 
acting  magistrate  at  Yenan. 

Phobah  had  the  regular  knight-of-the-road 
chivalry;  he  seized  the  goods  of  the  rich,  and 
when  he  had  more  than  enough  for  himself  and 
his  merry  men,  he  gave  to  the  poor. 

The  police  were  handicapped.  No  man  came 
forth  and  told  where  Phobah  was  in  hiding — 
the  rich  man  because  he  was  afraid  of  losing  his 
head,  and  the  poor  man  because  Phobah  fed 
him  when  he  was  hungry.  All  the  same,  this 
bandit  king  took  a  regular  dacoit's  delight  in 
killing  people  who  incurred  his  enmity. 

If  Phobah  was  king  of  the  jungles,  his  sister, 
Mahnet,  was  queen  of  the  village. 

When  Langworth  first  went  to  Yenan,  no 
1 60 


MAHNET 

Europeani  lived  there,  and  the  air,  that  wai 
empty  of  everything  but  the  taint  of  native*, 
hung  heavy  on  his  soul. 

That  was  why  Phobah's  sister,  Mahnet,  who 
was  really  pretty,  appeared  more  beautiful  than 
anythmg  else  in  the  world— meaning,  of  course, 
the  Yenan  world. 

Burma  is  not  as  conventional  as  Belgravlj  - 
not  openly,  at  any  rate;  so  Mahn.t  rolled  rhc 
roots  for  Langworth,  and  wov  jasmine  flowers 
j  in  her  hair,  and  put  the  golden-hearted  .himpa. 

blossoms  m  her  ears,  and  wore  the  sl-y  colored 
silk  putsoes  daintily  and  coquettishly,  and  ghzed 
the  olive  and  rose  of  her  cheek  with  sanJal- 
wood  powder,  all  for  the  sake  of  the  smart  po- 
lice oflicer  who  talked  gently  to  her  with  his  full 
rich  English  voice. 

If  Mahnet  was  pretty,  Langworth  was  hand- 
some. The  cavalry  officer's  beauty  he  had;  tall 
and  lithe  and  agile,  blue  eyes  and  blond  hair, 
and  the  square,  sun-browned  jaw  that  made 
strong  setting  for  the  man  beauty  that  was  in 
the  face. 

It  was  a  cheap  little  heaven  that  Mahnet  had; 
just  to  sit  there  and  watch  this  man  god  through 
the  rings  of  curling  smoke,  and  sometimes  to 
catch  the  music  of  his  laughter  as  he  chaffed  her. 

But  one  thing  bothered  Mahnet.  Phobah, 
l6i 


.r 


1^ '  'i 

•ii 

I  pi 

i  li 


iH 


i 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

who  was  her  brother,  was  a  dacoit,  a  bad  daco!t, 
on  whose  head  there  was  a  price;  and  some  day 
this  god  thakine,  the  superintendent,  would  go 
out  with  his  soldier  police  after  him,  and  there 
would  be  a  fight. 

Twice  Langworth  went  out  with  his  Punjabi 
police  after  the  dacoit  chief;  but  they  saw  only 
the  trail  of  the  serpent — the  blackened  iron- 
wood  posts  of  the  bamboo  houses  he  had  burned. 
There  were  no  fights,  neither  were  any  dacoits 
captured. 

So  in  Yenan  itself  there  was  much  peace  right 
up  to  the  day  Padre  Hoskins  came  with  his 
mission. 

Now  Padre  Hoskins  knew  of  the  home  his- 
tory of  Langworth;  he  knew  there  were  broad 
acres  and  a  manor  house ;  also  the  prospect  of  a 
title,  with  only  two  lives  between. 

So,  while  Langworth  watched  for  a  chance 
to  land  Phobah,  and  incidentally  attended  to 
routine  matters,  Padre  Hoskins  set  himself  the 
task  of  putting  the  superintendent's  household 
gods  in  order. 

Once  started  in  that  direction,  Hoskins  worked 
with  feverish  intentness.  This  intentness  woke 
Langworth  up — it  was  like  playing  a  hose  on  a 
light  sleeper.  He  had  not  thought  of  all  the 
things  the  padre  discussed  with  him  in  a  seem- 
1 6a 


MAHNET 

ingly  disinterested  manner.  If  he  had  thought 
of  them  at  all,  it  was  only  in  a  nebulous  way; 
the  only  concrete  thing  in  the  whole  bag  of 
tricks  was  Mahnet,  and  she  was  pleasant. 

Hoskins  was  a  past  master  at  mental  manipu- 
lation, and  the  tall  dacoit  fighter  rvas  no  match 
for  him  at  diat  game.  Even  Mahi.st  couldn't 
help  him  a  bit,  though  she  knew  what  was 
going  on. 

But  though  Langworth  was  outclassed  at  this 
mental  fencing,  yet  he  was  as  bull-headed  as— 
as— well,  an  Englishman.  Hoskins  could  see 
that,  or  rather  feel  it. 

An  inspiration  came  to  him.  He  must  have 
reenforcements;  that  was  the  key  to  the  whole 
situation — he  must  have  a  woman  to  play  off 
against  Mahnet.  So  he  sent  to  Rangoon  for  his 
niece,  Florence,  to  come  to  Yenan  to  help  him 
in  his  "  missionary  work."  If  Hoskins  had  not 
been  a  padre,  he  would  have  smiled  a  little  when 
he  wrote  that — "  missionary  work." 

Mahnet  knew  why  die  white  girl  had  come: 
just  as  the  native  news  carriers  beat  out  the  tele- 
graph, Mahnet's  subtle  Oriental  mind  discov- 
ered this  fact  long  before  Langworth  had  the 
least  suspicion  of  it. 

"  Does  my  lord  like  the  English  lady?  "  she 
asked  Langworth. 

163 


k 


8h  s 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

"Yes;  she's  a  ripping  fine  girl !  How  do  you 
like  her  swagger  frocks,  Mahnet?  Better  than 
putsoes,  aren't  they?  " 

These  were  things  for  Mahnet  to  think  over 
—slowly,  dreamily,  in  a  proper  Burmese  man- 
ner,  so  she  said  nothing.  And  at  the  end  of 
some  of  the  thinking,  Mahnet  did  a  proper  silly 
thing:  she  had  some  dainty  muslin  dresses  made, 
and  in  anger  stripped  from  the  bronze,  statu- 
esque limbs  the  clinging  silk  folds  of  the  grace- 
ful putsoe,  and  imprisoned  them  in  the  skirts 
that  were  like  the  English  lady's. 

Of  course  she  couldn't  eradicate  all  the  grace 
that  had  come  from  years  of  freedom  of  limb, 
but  si;e  went  a  long  way  toward  it ;  and  this  little 
false  play,  trifling  as  it  seemed,  did  considerable 
toward  the  realization  that  the  padre  had  been 
working  for.  It  was  the  illustration  that  went 
with  his  story  of  the  incompatibility  of  this  sort 
of  thing  in  England. 

With  the  reenforcemti.is  thrown  into  the  field, 
the  padre  commenced  to  score.  The  sight  of 
Florence's  English  face  and  high-bred  manner 
reawoke  the  "  caste  "  that  had  been  bred  in  the 
bone  of  Langworth's  English  home  life. 

Florence,   to  do   her  justice,   knew  nothing 
about  this — that  was  why  it  was  so  effective; 
she  was  natural,  and  liked  Langworth. 
164 


MAHNET 

A  man  couldn't  fight  against  all  this,  so  in  the 
end  the  padre  won,  and  Langworth  became  en- 
gaged to  Miss  Florence. 

So  Mahnet  spent  most  of  her  time  now  at  her 
father's  little  bamboo  house,  because  her  lord 
wished  it.  And  Langworth  spent  most  of  his 
time  thinking  out  futile  little  schemes  for  break- 
ing off  the  thing  effectually:  a  trip  to  Darjeeling 
would  perhaps  be  the  best  way,  with  a  sub- 
stantial recompense  to  Mahnet  for  her  disap- 
pointment. 

Then  suddenly,  one  sultry  night,  Ragathu, 
who  was  a  village  woon,  came  to  the  superin- 
tendent and  whispered  in  fear  that  Phobah 
was  hidden  in  the  Zealat  jungle,  close  to  Raga- 
thu's  village.  His  villagers  had  captured  one 
of  the  dacoits,  named  Yaman,  and  Ragathu  had 
brought  him  to  Yenan. 

The  dacoit  was  marched  before  Langworth. 
A  proper  cocoanut-headed  villain  he  was.  On 
his  legs,  from  knee  to  hip,  was  much  barbarous 
tattooing  in  blue  and  red ;  snakes  and  big-tusked 
dragons  fought  each  other  on  the  great  muscles 
of  his  sturdy  thighs.  The  scar  of  a  dahcut 
traced  its  unpleasant  length  down  his  cheek  from 
ear  to  mouth. 

"  Judging  from  the  specimen,"  Langworth  re- 
marked, "  I  should  say  they  were  a  pretty  tough 
165 


r 


i 

1 

J 
1 

v! 

■'if 

i.  ■ 

(si  i-i 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

gang.  No  wonder  you  villagers  drop  your  guns 
and  run,  if  they're  all  as  hideous  as  this  gentle 
creature.  What  does  he  say  for  himself,  Ra- 
gathu?" 

"  He  says,  thakine,  that  if  you  will  not  take 
away  his  life,  nor  send  him  off  to  the  Devil 
Island,  where  the  Government  puts  the  dacoits, 
he  will  show  where  Phobah  and  his  jackals  are 
hiding." 

"  I  thought  so ;  he  looks  a  proper  traitor.  He 
ought  to  be  shot  out  of  hand.  But  Phobah  is 
worth  a  bigger  price  than  this  sneak's  useless  life. 
Tell  him  that  if  he  keeps  his  word,  I'll  try  to  get 
a  pardon  for  him.  But  mark  you,  Ragathu,  if 
I  see  anything  suspicious,  I'll  kill  him  as  I  would 
a  cobra.  I  don't  want  my  Punjabis  led  into  a 
trap.  How  far  is  it  to  the  dacoit's  camp?  Ask 
him." 

"  Four  hours,  thakine,  he  says." 

"  Well,  we  had  better  nab  Phobah  to-night, 
then;  he'll  be  gone  in  the  morning." 

Yaman  was  closely  guarded,  and  the  sergeant 
of  police  given  orders  to  line  up  fifteen  picked 
Punjabis  and  get  ready  for  a  start  immediately. 

Mahnet  had  heard  that  one  of  Phobah's  men 

was  at  Langworth's  bungalow,  so  she  had  come 

down  to  hear  if  evil  had  befallen  her  brother. 

Sitting  out  on  the  veranda,  she  had  heard  all 

i66 


MAHNET 

this  talk,  the  bamboo  walls  were  so  thin — not 
thick  enough  to  keep  this  misery  from  her  heart. 
What  a  black  cloud  it  was!— at  last  somebody 
would  be  killed  I 

She  sat  huddled  up  on  the  floor,  her  face 
buried  in  the  arms  folded  across  the  knees,  the 
silly  muslin  dress  drinking  greedily  the  tears  that 
dropped  from  the  big  dark  eyes.  She  was  think- 
ing, thinking,  thinking.  Phobah  would  be  killed, 
or  Langworth  thakine  would  be  killed. 

Suddenly  she  raised  her  head.  Buddha  would 
help  her  do  that,  help  her  prevent  the  killing. 

Yaman  had  been  left  in  the  bungalow,  hand- 
cuffed  to  a  policeman,  while  Langworth  arranged 
for  his  men  over  at  the  thanna.  Mahnet  went 
in  to  where  the  dacoit  and  his  guard  were. 
"  Quick,  brother,"  she  said  in  Yaman's  jungle 
speech;  "  where  is  Phobah?  " 

"  What  are  you  saying?  "  asked  the  Punjabi, 
for  he  did  not  understand  the  language. 

"I  am  asking  how  many  men  Phobah  has 
with  him,"  she  replied,  with  Oriental  diplomacy. 

"At  the  white  pagoda  that  is  where  the  nullah 
crosses  the  road  from  Zealat  to  Minbu,"  an- 
swered Yaman;  and  his  red  and  yellow  eyes 
lighted  up  furtively. 

"What  does  he  say?  "  asked  the  policeman, 
suspiciously. 

I<7 


\f 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

"He  says  Phobah  has  many  men,  and  that 
the  pohce  must  go  very  slowly  and  carefully, 
because  the  guns  are  always  watching  at  the  little 
path  that  leads  through  the  jungle." 

Then  Mahnct  went  out  and  sped'swiftly  down 
into  the  Village  to  her  father's  house,  where  lived 
l-athu,  her  young  brother. 

"  Lathul  Lathul  "  she  called  softly,  just  at 
the  foot  of  the  teak-wood  steps. 

Lathu  came  down  from  the  little  house,  his 
sandals  knocking  irritably  at  the  hard  wood  of 
the  primitive  stairway.  "  What  is  it,  little  sis- 
ter  r     he  asked. 

"Phobah  is  at  the  Zealat  pagoda,  and  die 

tnakine  is  going  out  with  the  police.    O  Lathu 

somebody  will  be  killed  I" 

"It  is  four  hours  there,"  said  Lathu,  plain- 
Uvely.  '^ 

"You  arc  afraid,  then,"  sneered  Mahnct, 
drawing  back  disdainfully. 

"I  will  go,"  answered  Lathu,  with  decision; 
but  Fhobah  must  go  away— he  must  not  siioot 
at  the  police." 

"  Yes;  tell  him  that  Mahnet  says  he  must  not 
shoot  at  die  police,  because  the  thakine  is  Mah- 
net's  brother." 

Over  the  government  road  that  led  to  Raga- 
thu  s  viUage,  tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  with  the 
1 68 


MAHNET 

stately  military  tread  of  soldier-bied  Punjabis, 
the  fifteen  tall  policemen  marched  through  the 
thick,  sensuous  gloom  of  the  Burmese  night.  At 
their  head  rode  the  superintendent  on  his  gray 
Pegu  pony,  and  between  him  and  the  policemen 
was  Ragathu,  the  sergeant,  and  Yaman. 

At  Ragathu's  village  they  halted  for  a  rest. 
It  was  twelve  o'clock.  The  Pegu  pony  was  left 
at  the  village,  and  the  brown  figures  of  Lang- 
worth  and  his  men,  with  soft  muffled  steps, 
melted  into  the  deep  shadow  of  the  Zealat 
jungle.  In  front  of  the  column  marched  Lang- 
worth  and  the  sergeant;  between  them  the  dacoit 
guide,  Yaman. 

Down  the  Minbu  road  they  moved  softly, 
silently.  The  Punjabis  had  slipped  off  their  big 
loose  sandals  and  shoved  them  into  the  khaki 
blouses.  The  order  for  silence  had  been  passed, 
and  no  one  spoke — no  one  whispered. 

At  the  nullah  that  cut  its  little  gorge  across 
their  way,  Yaman  touched  Langworth  on  the 
arm,  and  they  halted.  With  his  lips  close  to  the 
ears  of  the  sergeant  he  whispered  something. 
The  sergeant  spoke  to  Yaman,  so  low  that  no 
one  heard.  Then  he  put  his  face  close  to  the 
superintendent's.  "He  says,"  whispered  the 
sergeant,  "  that  a  path  on  the  other  hank  of  the 
nullah  leads  down  to  the  white  pagoda,  that  is 
169 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


lii! 


in  a  thick  jungle  of  bamboos.  Beyond  the  pa- 
goda Phobah  has  a  stocicade." 

"  When  we  come  to  the  pagoda,"  whispered 
back  Langworth,  "take  six  police  and  work 
around  the  back  to  cut  off  their  retreat.  I  will 
charge  them  from  in  front.  They  will  be  sleep- 
ing, and  we'll  bag  the  lot." 

He  touched  Yaman,  and  the  party  moved 
down  into  the  dark  bottom  of  the  nullah,  over 
the  little  bridge,  .:nd  up  on  the  farther  bank. 
They  turned  sh.i'j  to  the  left  along  the  narrow 
ribbon  of  the  jungle-hid  path;  they  could  only 
walk  two  abreast. 

Suddenly  something  rustled  the  hanging 
leaves  of  the  drooping  bamboos  on  their  right. 
Langworth  cocked  his  revolver  and  half-turned. 
Then  they  moved  forward  again. 

As  they  started,  a  sharp  bird-whistle  sounded 
at  Langworth's  elbow;  he  could  have  sworn  it 
was  Yaman  giving  a  signal  a  step  behind  him. 
Wheeling  like  a  flash  he  stretched  out  his  hand 
for  the  dacoit's  throat.  His  fingers  clutched  the 
sergeant — Yaman  had  gone. 

Then  again  that  sharp  hissing  note  sounded 
from  the  jungle  on  their  left. 

"  Forward  I    Quick  march !  "  he  commanded. 

Too  late.  Hell  belched  forth;  its  hot 
breath  scorched  their  faces.  The  sergeant 
170 


MAHNET 

pitched   forward  on  hii  head— diot  through 
the  heart. 

Langworth  felt  a  pair  of  red-hot  pincen  grab 
the  tendons  of  his  right  arm,  and  tear  them 
down,  down  to  the  elbow.  The  arm  hung  use- 
less  as  a  withered  leaf— a  slug  had  shattered  die 
bone.  And  something  was  ripping  at  his  breast 
widi  a  knife  or  a  jagged  nail;  it  seared  his  flesh 
and  clutched  at  his  lungs— they  were  choking. 

A  glaring  flame  darted  out  and  withered  his 
cheek;  the  light  was  burned  out  of  his  eyes. 

The  leaderless  Punjabis  were  charging  like 
madmen  dirough  the  jungle;  firing,  and  mixing 
up  indiscriminately  with  spearlike  bamboos  that 
had  been  planted  in  a  bayonet  wall  about  Pho- 
bahs  nest.  But  after  the  first  volley  Phobah 
and  his  men  had  melted  into  the  waste  of  dark- 
ened jungle.    Pursuit  was  useless. 

Tenderly  the  baflied  police  picked  up  their 
fallen  leader  and  the  sergeant,  and  started  back 
dejectedly  over  the  road  to  Ragathu's  village. 
There  a  charpoy  was  improvised  as  a  litter,  and 
with  swinging  tread  the  silent  men  bore  Lans- 
worth  to  Yenan. 

Mahnet  had  been  waiting  like  a  frightened 
bird  for  the  police  to  come  back  out  of  the 
jungle. 

"The  sahib  will  die,"  said  the  Punjabi  Naik 
«  171 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

who  wai  in  charge  lince  the  sergeant's  death. 
Somebody  betrayed  ui  to  Phobah;  his  men 
shot  from  the  jungle  before  we  came  to  the  pa- 
goda,  and  the  sergeant  is  already  dead.  The 
Mhib  will  die  also;  because  there  is  nobody  here 
but  the  guru  sahib,  who  is  a  fool,  and  knows  only 
to  pray.  The  doctor  sahib  is  at  Minbu,  which  is 
twenty  miles,  and  so  our  captain  will  die." 

Now  Ungworth  had  a  race  pony,  and  in  three 
minutes  Mahnet  was  galloping  on  the  road  to 
Mmbu.  In  an  hour  and  a  half  she  was  there; 
and  die  civil  surgeon,  who  was  a  Bengali  baboo, 
was  having  it  explained  to  him  that  if  he  did  not 
go  quick  to  Yenan,  Phobah,  the  dacoit,  would 
crucify  him  to  please  Mahnet. 

So  in  three  hours  more,  just  as  the  blar^faced 
sun  was  slipping  down  behind  the  Yomas,  the 
baboo  was  picking  twisted  slugs  from  the  torn 
holes  diat  were  in  Langwordi's  arms  and  chest 
and  legs. 

"  He  will  die,"  said  the  baboo,  cheerfully, 
with  soulless  brevity,  "  because  of  the  proper 
shooting  of  the  dacoits.  What  can  I,  who  am 
but  a  civil  surgeon,  do,  when  the  fusillade  had 
been  conducted  with  such  commendable  preci- 
«on?  Also  are  the  damn  slugs  corkscrewed  into 
him  with  beastly  linuosity. 
"  In  die  morning  he  will  be  defunct;  there- 
172 


MAHNET 

fo«  you  mu.t  arrange  about  «,n,c  futurity  mat 
ter,,  becauM  the  demi«  may  be  ,ccTr7J   1 
»ny  time.    Al«,  do  not  keen  fhVu      t        ," 
optical  inflammation  ha.  t«„t  '"^  ^"''  ^°' 
of  Phobah'.  .hort  L  ••  '^'"^  °"  """« 

chacforLang^lrtt      *'^""«'''""<l'din 
«id  ":  BeTgah-  "  """•'  «'"  '"'"  "'"^-^^'^^''" 

t.-oiJand't;nattS°'^'°«°^''P-"^^^^ 
"SBa^-^r^^S^rr 

''wh^^d^;T;bbU's;?J^:/^^^^^^ 

taS  much  of  ,  j„d^ ..     ""*  "  '"-°"  *« 

hin>  .t'memls    S  ^f^'^^^P  '»»«  caught 
'mervals.    Then  he  spoke  brokenly,  with 

»73 


•Moocorr  nsoutriON  tbt  chart 

(ANSI  and  ISO  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


IM 


■M 


I.I 


125 


12.2 


12.0 


1.8 


|0!|U    |u 


A 


/ff=>PLEa  HVMGE    Inc 

1S53  Emt  Uoin  StrMt 

Rochwttr.  mm  York        14609      USA 

(716)  482  -  0300  -  Phon« 

(716)  2Ba-»89-f<n 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


(I.  ■ 


a  strange  mixture  of  petulant  humor  and  seri- 
ousness : 

"The  baboo's  an  ass — always  was;  but  I'm 
afraid  he's  right  this  time;  it's  usually  big  odds 
the  other  way.  I'm  not  going  to  give  up — 
that's  no  good;  but  still  we'd  better  fix  things 
a  bit,  if  you'll  help.  Oh,  hang  it  I  I  shouldn't 
mind  if  I'd  bagged  that  beast  Phobah,  and 
hadn't  lost  the  sergeant — poor  devil!  I  won- 
der who  sent  the  dacoits  word  we  were  coming? 
I'd  like  to  know  that. 

"  There's  a  bit  of  land  at  home,  and  if  I  don't 
fix  it,  Basil — ^you  remember  him — deuced  bad  lot 
— will  come  in  for  it,  and  make  ducks  and  drakes 
of  the  whole  business.  It  wouldn't  do  him  a  bit 
of  good  either — ^wouldn't  last  long.  We  must 
save  the  acres  so  they'll  be  of  benefit  to  some- 
body who  deserves  it.  It's  about  time  I  did 
something  decent.  Would  Florence  mind  if  we 
were  married  to-night?  " 

"  Robert — "  commenced  the  padre,  dis- 
tressedly. 

"  Don't  bother  I  "  broke  in  Langworth,  petu- 
lantly. "  If  the  baboo's  right,  I'll  snuff  out  by 
morning,  so  don't  upset  what  ought  to  be,  be- 
cause of  form  scruples.  Send  for  Florence, 
that's  a  good  man.  She  won't  mind  if  I'm  torn 
up  a  bit.  Afterward  you  must  fix  up  the  papers 
174 


).   i|i 


lU 


MAHNET 

leaving  even^thing  to  her-bar  a  thousand 
pounds  for  Mahnet:  she  deserves  something, 
too-I  m  afraid  I've  treated  her  beastly  bad. 
Now  hurry  this  up  and  don't  bother,  for  it's 
shppery  go.ng,  and  I  may  take  a  header  at  any 
moment."  ' 

The  padre  stopped  out  on  the  back  veranda 
and  called  the  orderly.  "  Bring  the  mems.hib, 
quick  "he  said.     "  Your  captain's  order." 

Then  he  went  back  and  sat  beside  Langworth, 
and  waited.  Presently  a  step  sounded  on  A^ 
graveled  road  at  the  veranda.  She  had  come, 
ihe  padre  rose  and  went  to  the  door.  He 
could  see  the  shadowy  figure  of  the  girl  in  the 
dusk  of  the  gathering  night.  "  Come  here,  my 
dear,    he  said,  softly;  "  Robert  wants  you.'« 

As  she  came  forward  in  the  gray  of  the  un- 
lighted  room,  droopingly,  he  whispered:  "He 
w«hes  to  make  you  his  wife  to  secure  the  prop- 

bitterly  hard  to  be  cut  off  in  his  prime  by  those 

M^trwillT''""'  ""  '  '""-^  ^'^^  ^'^ 
Then  he  stepped  up  to  the  cot,  and  bent  over 

the  man  Iy.„g  there  with  his  eyes  bandaged. 
She  has  come  "  he  said,  softly.     "  Shall  we 

proceed  with  the  ceremony;  is  it  really  your 

*75 


■M 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

"  Yes;  hurry  up,  or  wc  may  be  short  a  bride- 
groom," answered  Langworth.  "  Come  here, 
little  woman.  Deuced  good  of  you  to  come. 
Sorry  I  can't  see  you;  my  eyes  are  bunged  up." 

The  girl  slipped  to  her  knees  beside  the  figure, 
which  was  almost  swallowed  up  in  the  shadow 
of  the  coming  night.  The  wounded  man  heard 
the  soft  rustle  of  the  dress,  and  stretched  his  left 
hand  gropingly  toward  her.  She  caught  the 
hand  in  both  her  own,  and  covered  it  with  sob- 
bing kisses.    The  hot  tears  scalded  it. 

"  Don't  cut  up,'  girl,"  said  Langworth.  "  I 
think  I'll  pull  through  in  spite  of  the  baboo  and 
Phobah;  but  we've  got  to  do  this  thing  for  fear 
of  accidents,  you  know." 

"  Shall  we  go  on  without  a  light?  "  asked  the 
padre;  "the  baboo  has  forbidden  one  in  the 
room." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Langworth.  "  I  like  the 
gloom — it  rests  me." 

Impressively  the  tall,  slender  padre,  with 
strained  voice,  repeated  the  solemn  sentences 
which  joined  them  together  till  death  should 
them  part.  Only  a  few  hours  at  the  most,  per- 
haps a  few  minutes,  it  might  be  till  the  parting 
would  come. 

"Now,  girl,"  said  Langworth,  when  the 
padre  ceased  speaking,  "  I'm  glad  that  is  sct- 
176 


MAHNET 

tied.  We  must  make  a  strung  fight  to  get  over 
these  cuts.  You'll  be  all  right  at  home  if  I  don't 
pull  through." 

It  was  a  strange  marriage— pluck  and  misery, 
and  perhaps  just  a  little  worldly  satisfaction  on 
the  part  of  Padre  Hoskins  to  relieve  his  genuine 
sorrow  at  the  almost  certain  loss  of  a  friend. 

"It  doesn't  seem  very  regular,"  said  the 
clergyman,  as  he  thought  canonically  of  the 
usual  routine,  "  but  the  circumstances  must  be 
considered." 

"  It's  all  right,"  answered  Langworth,  wea- 
rily; "  I'm  glad  I  pulled  through  it.  Give  me  a 
drink,  please.  Hurry  the  papers— they'll  need 
my  name  to  them." 

"  You'll  remain  w  .  your  husband,  my  dear, 
until  I  return,"  said  the  padre,  softly.  "  I'll 
send  the  doctor  to  help  you  with  Robert." 

As  he  stepped  off  the  veranda  hastily  he  fairiy 
ran  into  somebody. 

^^  "O  uncle  I"  a  frightened  voice  exclaimed; 
"  you  nearly  knocked  me  down.  I  came  over  to 
see  how  Mr.  Langworth  is.  The  doctor  says  he 
is  dangerously  wounded." 

Hoskins   stood   petrified   with   astonishment 
for  an  instant;  then  he  spoke  in  a  voice  of  won- 
der:   "You — you — Florence?     You — ^weren't 
— in  the  room  just  now?  " 
177 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

"Why,  no,  uncle;  I've  just  come  from  the 
bungalow." 

"  My  God!  whom,  then,  have  I  married  to 
Robert?  "  as  a  horrible  suspicion  flashed  through 
his  mind.  "It  must  be— the— other— Mah- 
net." 

He  turned  and  passed  quickly  to  the  door  of 
Langworth's  room.  Just  inside  he  stopped, 
awed  by  the  sight  of  a  blurred  picture. 

Drooping  over  t^e  cot  in  broken  misery  was 
the  slight  figure  of  the  woman  he  had  joined  in 
marriage  to  the  dying  man.  The  unwounded 
left  arm  was  thrown  about  her  neck.  The  hush 
of  the  little  room  was  broken  by  plaintive  sobs, 
and  a  man's  voice  was  saying:  "  It's  a  terrible 
mix-up,  Mahnet— why  did  you  do  it,  girl?  I 
can't  blame  you,  though.  It  seems  like  fate. 
You  can't  beat  out  fate — nobody  can." 

It  seemed  to  the  listener  that  there  was  more 
of  resignation  than  regret  in  the  voice.  And 
Mahnet  was  sobbing. 

The  padre  turned,  and  taking  Florence  gently 
by  the  hand,  said,  "  Come  home  with  me,  dear; 
I  will  come  back  to  Robert  presently." 

In  the  morning  Langworth  was  still  alive 

and  that  night— and  the  next  morning;  and  as 

the  days  went  by  he  grew  stronger  and  stronger, 

and  Mahnet  nursed  him  back  to  life.    The  doc- 

178 


MAHNET 

tor  said  it  was  the  nursing  that  pulled  him 
through. 

Only  the  light  that  had  been  scorched  out  of 
the  eyes  never  came  back;  and  the  right  :irm  was 
gone.  But  Mahnet  didn't  mind  that;  she  was 
happy. 

Afterward  the  padre  learned  that  Mahnet  had 
come  into  her  own  innocently  enough;  it  was  his 
amateur  Hindoostanee  that  was  at  fault.  He 
should  have  said,  "  Bring  the  Missie  Baba,"  not 
the  "  memsahib."  Then  the  orderly  would  not 
have  gone  for  Mahnet,  thinking  the  padre 
wanted  her. 


179 


i 


i    il 


v.  •* 


FINNERTY   OF   THE    ELEPHANT 
KEDDAH 

SOME  day  a  man  will  come  out  of  India 
and  write  a  book  about  Major  Finnerty 
of  the  Elephant  Keddah.     Then  this 
story  will  be  last  'in  the  book,  because  of  the 
thing  that  is  in  the  story. 

The  "  Major "  was  Finnerty's  "  ranking," 
for  he  had  been  out  of  the  regiment  since  he  was 
a  sub-lieutenant. 

Finnerty  was  the  strongest  man  in  the  Indian 
Service ;  and  sober  his  strength  was  a  forbearing 
delight;  drunk  he  was  a  tribulation.  Liquor 
floated  his  mentality  to  some  ir  st  dead  sea  of 
oblivion,  and  his  physical  force  guided  him 
illogically,  a  rampageous  gorilla. 

Knowing  of  this  thing  himself,  and  in  avve  of 
the  blank  anger  of  the  Sircar,  he  stuck  to  pina-k- 
pani  (water)  in  the  the  jungle;  leaving  the  othsr 
till  he  got  his  month  of  leave  in  Calcutta. 

The  Keddah  Sahib's  rer  own  had  gone  from 

Manipur  to  Herat,  and  from  Simla  to  Cape 

Comorin.      Punjabi   wrestlers  came   from   the 

"  Land  of  the  Five  Rivers,"  end  wept  with  joy 

1 80 


FINNERTY   OF   THE   KEDDAH 

when  they  looked  at  the  six-foot-three  Irishman. 
They  stroked  his  huge  muscles  lovingly,  and 
exclaimed  "  Wah-wah  I  "  Then,  when  they  had 
been  thrown,  they  would  go  back  to  their  own 
caste,  and  tell  of  the  one  sahib  that  should  have 
been  a  Sikh  Rajah.  That  was  Finnerty  of  the 
Elephant  Keddah. 

And  Chota  Moti  was  a  grunty  little  babe 
elephant  that  Finnerty  had  captured  in  the  As- 
sam jungles. 

Out  of  consanguinity  of  temperament  these 
two  took  to  each  other  like  blood  relatives.    For 
a  year  Finnerty  made  a  pet  of  Chota  Moti;  and 
then  the  official  who  writes  on  paper  what  is  to  be 
done  with  the  Government's  elephants  passed  an 
order  that  Chota  Moti,  being  rseless  for  work, 
should  be  sold  with  other  cast  animals.    Wilson! 
the  circus  man,  bought  the  babe,  and  she  passed 
from  Dhuttaghur  to  a  canvas  home  on  the  big 
maidan  in  Calcutta.    Then  when  the  hot  weather 
blew  its  sirocco  breath  across  the  City  of  Pal- 
aces, the  viceroy  and  the  sahibs  trooped  up  to 
the  Himalayas,  and  the  circus  folded  its  tei.t  and 
stole  away  to  Australia. 

The  going  of  Chota  Moti  from  Dhuttaghur 

left  a  blank  in  the  life  of  the  Keddah  Sahib.    If 

he  could  have  filled  the  void  with  some  strong 

essence  of  forgetfulness,   he  might  not  have 

i8i 


I  i^ 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

missed  the  little  hathi  so  much,  but  he  dare  not 
even  smell  the  stuff— it  would  have  led  to  slaug. 
ter;  for  Dhuttaghur  and  natives  and  elephanu 
and  delirium-laden  jungle  fever  wasn't  Calcutta 
and  the  white  men  of  his  own  caste,  by  any 
means. 

In  September  Finnerty  read  in  the  Calcutta 
^sian  that  the  circus  was  daily  expected  from 
Australia.  Then  ^he  devil  of  restlessness  drew 
at  the  soul  of  the  Irishman,  till  he  became  like 
a  muggar  that  forsakes  his  pool  in  the  Ganges 
and  travels  far  across  land. 

"  Faith,  I  can't  stand  it,"  he  growled.  "  I'll 
go  kharab  (bad)  if  I  stay  here." 

He  applied  for  leave,  and  when  it  came  passed 
with  celerity  from  Dhuttaghur  to  the  city  of 
rejuvenation. 

"  Now,  my  little  pig-squeaker,  I'll  feed  you 
nuts  and  taparees  till  your  sides  bulge,"  Finnerty 
muttered,  as  he  donned  clean  raiment  in  his 
room  m  the  Great  Eastern  Hotel.  Then  he 
drove  to  the  maidan.  The  green  sward  stretched 
away  m  unbroken  flatness  to  the  escarpment  of 
Fort  William;  no  flag-topped,  white-walled  tent 
met  the  Keddah  Sahib's  eyes;  the  circus  had  not 
arrived;  there  was  no  little  trumpet  of  welcome 
for  Finnerty  from  Chota  Moti. 
But  Calcutta  was  not  Dhuttaghur,  and  there 
182 


FINNERTY  OF  THE   KEDDAH 

was  the  other  thing  to  be  had,  the  solace  of  many 
pegs.  So  the  Keddah  Sahib  became  one  to 
avoid. 

It  was  all  play,  for  no  man  might  ipeak  out 
of  h.s  memory  that  he  had  seen  Finnerty  cross. 
But  such  play  I  Tom  coats  and  bruised  limbs 
are  jokes  to  read  about,  not  to  come  by.  Be- 
cause  of  h.i  giant  strength,  no  man  showed  an- 
ger  to  the  Keddah  Sahib,  and  Finnerty  held 
anger  against  no  man. 

The  trouble  commenced  over  a  new  sahib- 
one  who  had  lately  <      ;  to   Calcutta,   and 
knew  not  of  Finnerty  and  his  ways.    He  was  a 
seller  of  wares  from  Birmingham,  and  every 
man  m  that  town  thinks  he  can  box.    So  Ham- 
merton  put  hin„elf  on  guard  when  Finnerty, 
with  h.s  huge  arKis  spread,  swept  through  the 
cafe  tiffin  room  in  a   friendly  charge.     The 
sahibs   that   knew   ducked    and   scuttled    and 
laughed  and  swore,  and  it  was  fun— for  Fin- 
nerty.     The  drive  proceeded  with  exuberant 
success  till  :he  man  from  Birmingham  stood  in 
the  way. 

"Ay,  there,  me  'earty,"  he  called  wamingly, 
as  his  fists  swung  into  proper  pose. 

Finnerty  stared.  Was  there  ever  such  luck? 
He  rubbed  his  eyes  doubtingly.  Here  was  a 
man  inviting  a  grapple.  Not  since  the  Keddah 
183 


':t 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

Sahi^  had  graiMd  the  last  Punjabi  had  he  felt 
the  joyou.  thrill  of  .training  muscle,  against  hi. 
chest  The  sahibs  of  Calcutta  were  weakling, 
that  fell  away  m  disordered  limpness  from  the 
clutch  of  his  brawny  hands. 

"HivinsI  but  you're  a  darlin'I"  cried  Fin- 
nerty  in  his  exuberant  joy.  "  I  could  love  you. 
man;  its  a  britle  of  Simpkin  ^e'll  be  havin' 
presently.  In  the' meantime,  look  out,  me  buck. 
1  m  chargin' 

« For  they  c«U  it  limimde  in  Billyhooly.* " 

The  ''Balljhooly"  wa,  like  the  trumpet  of 
one  of  his  own  elephants;  indeed,  Finnerty's  rush 
was  entirely  like  that,  and  die  Birmingham  gent 
was  seized  by  the  vest,  and  the  upper  story  of 
his  trousers,  swung  from  his  feet,  lifted  to  die 
end  of  die  long  tiffin  table,  all  set  for  lunch,  and 
then  the  table  was  swept  from  er.u  to  end.    Mul- 
ligatawny  and  beer  and  claret  and  Worcester 
sauce  and  many  other  liquids  formed  a  lake 
on  the  marble  floor  that  was  pebbled  with  frag- 
ments  of  bottles  and  broken  dishes. 

"  Now,  me  darlin',"  cried  die  audior  of  the 
mischief,  "  we'll  drink  a  bottle  of  wine  to  show 
there's  no  ill  will." 
The  merchant's  white  suit  was  gaudy  with 
184 


FINNERTY   OF   the    KEDDAH 

the  purple  .tain  of  claret  and  the  biliou.  „een 
of  mull.g,uwny;  and  hi.  hair  held  ZryZd 
there  wa.  Worcester  sauce  in  hi,  eye,   and  the 

daTs,h\"  ""  ""  °J  '''  '°'y-  So  to'th'  K  5 
of  th.  1'  »«°""'»""t.  he  walked  sulkily  out 
of  the  roo      turning  at  the  door  to  curse  thl 

"f"  w  f  "'I'. '  ^"""''■•'™^  of  ^Xy 

like  L  K  .1        ."  T'^  ''"  ""P^y  he  stood 

table  anH^h         '^  "-'"iringly  at  the  desolate 
s^^^ha^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

"When  the  glory',  pdmed  up, 
Wh..'.  the  tally  in  Ae  bloody  he.p  of  d«„  , 

Now  you-re  drunk,  you  Irish  pup. 
And  you'll  never  get  your  .tripe.  „o  „,ore  ,g«„. 

For  the  Lunenck.  .re  rough-very  rough. " 

nesfhewt''^  """"''  */  *'*"  "°'"'-  '»»  --"Pti- 
ness  held  no  promise  of  entertainment-  it,  still 
new  oppressed  him.    He  passed  a  W  t  hi' 
and  up  to  the  billiard  room  humming?  " 

"  ^''«n  the  "Uiging  cable',  ftd 

With  the  tally  of  the  awfUl  Butcher'.  Bill 
In  their  wbered  tunic,  .reared  with  dirty  r^. 

Count  the  Irirf.  on  the  cre.t  of  every  hUl, 
For  the  Lunericb  are  dead-mo.tly  dead  " 
185 


i;r 


I'  it 

i  i'  i 


lip 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

As  he  entered  the  room  two  sahibs  laid  their 
cues  on  the  table,  took  their  helmets,  and  slipped 
through  the  other  door. 

The  Irishman  looked  at  the  button-strung 
wire  over  the  table.  The  score  showed  that  the 
sahibs  had  left  their  game  half-finished.  On 
a  side  table  stood  two  glasses,  half-full. 

Finnerty  laughed;  then  he  stretched  his  huge 
form  in  a  chair  ai^d  ordered  a  bottle  of  "  Mono- 
pole." 

"  Faith,  it's  too  bad  entirely,"  he  muttered; 
"  sure  I'd  like  to  split  this  bottle  with  that  gen- 
tleman of  the  zebra  coat." 

As  the  Keddah  Sahib  drank,  a  hotel  peon 
appeared,  and,  salaming  deeply,  handed  him 
a  note.  It  was  a  bill  for  sixty-eight  rupees 
breakage. 

"  Sure,  shikarri  comes  high  in  Calcutta,"  Fin- 
nerty remarked,  as  he  scrawled  his  signature 
across  the  bill  and  passed  it  to  the  peon. 

Before  he  had  emptied  his  glass  a  private 
servant  appeared  with  another  missive.  It  was 
a  request  that  Mr.  M.  J.  Finnerty  would  se  'd 
by  bearer  twenty-four  rupees,  value  of  a  suit  he 
had  ruined. 

The  Keddah  Sahib  laughed.    "  Faith,  that's 
rich,"  he  muttered.  "  The  bounder  must  be  a  pro- 
fessional; he  wants  pay  for  an  amateur  bout." 
i86 


FINNERTY   OF   THE    KEDDAH 

Finnerty  tore  the  note  and  threw  it  at  the 
servant,  intimating  that  he  and  his  master  might 
take  a  trip  to  a  worse  climate  than  Calcutta. 
The  native  disappeared.     And  presently  the 
khitmutghar  handed  to  Finnerty  a  third  neatly 
folded  sheet  of  paper.    This  was  distinctly  dis- 
courteous in  tone;  it  intimated  that  M.  J.  Fin- 
nerty  was  a  man  of  low  caste;  that  he  had  struck 
the  writer's  servant;  that  he  had  been  rude  to 
the  sahib  himself;  that  he  had  committed  an 
assault;  that  he  had  refused  to  pay  a  legitimate 
charge  for  damages  sustained  and  that  now  he 
was  about  to  be  punished. 
„  "^?^'    ^^^    darlin',"    Finnerty   murmured; 
"I'm  in  luck— me,  that  was  so  lonesome.    Och, 
I'm  happy  entirely.    He'll  be  spankin'  Finnerty 
—the  darlin'  1  " 

The  beady  champagne  boiled  up  in  the  Irish- 
man and  threw  a  vapor  of  ecstasy  to  his  brain. 
He  sang  softly:  "Oh,  the  fightin'  boys  that 
come  from  Limerick,  from  Limerick,  from 
Limerick  1 "  Then  he  called:  "  Here,  khitmut- 
ghar, bring  me  the  toy  man  that  fetched  this 
chittie — I'll  be  givin'  him  a  rupee." 

"  That  bearer  he's  plenty  much  'fraid,  Hu- 
zoor." 

"  Faith,  I'll  not  touch  him.    Sure,  I'm  a  mem- 
sahib,  I'm  that  gentle— just  holdin'  meself  for 
18  187 


:| 


:H! 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

what's  to  come.    Stand  him  by  the  door  the 
till  I  malce  bat  (talk)  with  him;  then  you'll  b 
givin'  him  this  rupee." 

By  the  persuasiveness  of  silver  the  servant 
was  coaxed  to  the  door,  and  Finnerty  made  the 
bat,  which  was : 

"  Give  your  sahib  my  salams,  and  tell  him 
that  I'll  be  waitin'  in  room  seven,  on  the  second 
floor,  just  dyin'  with  the  joy  of  seein'  him.  Tell 
your  master  that  Finnerty  Sahib  is  just  dyin'  to 
be  punished — altogether  hungry  for  it." 

The  servant  slipped  away;  the  Keddah  Sahib 
finished  his  wine,  and,  more  or  less  troubled  by 
its  wavering  influence,  passed  to  the  second  floor, 
muttering,  as  he  went :  "  Oh,  but  I  ought  to 
telegraph  to  Healey  at  Dhuttaghur  that  I'm 
goin'  to  be  chastised  I  " 

Down  the  dim  corridor  Finnerty  swung,  full 
of  the  exhilarating  prospect  ahead  of  him.  He 
pushed  back  the  purdah  of  a  doorway  and 
passed  into  the  room.  Had  he  looked  at  the 
number  he  would  have  seen  it  was  nine,  but  the 
rooms  were  all  alike  in  their  primitive  simplicity, 
and  he  was  deeply  interested  in  other  matters. 
His  foot  struck  against  a  pair  of  riding  boots 
standing  in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  Finnerty 
kicked  them  through  the  purdah  to  the  hall, 
muttering :  "  That  Abdul  is  a  budmash ;  I'll  fine 
i88 


FINNERTY  OF  THE    KEDDAH 

hin,  eight  annas  for  leavin'  mc  boots  therc-I 
might  have  broken  me  neck." 

He  threw  his  coat  and  helmet  on  a  chair 
Jgh  ed  a  cheroot,  and  stretched  himself  on  J.e 
bed  to  wa,t  for  a  visitation  of  justice.  I„  trutih 
the  man  from  Birmingham  had  probably  m«„t 
oure  b  ess;  but  such  a  thing  L  law  waT^ 
side  the  cognizance  of  the  Keddah  Sahib-  he 
was  a  law  unto  himself.  ' 

m,3?  ''^,co'"in•  presintly,"  Finnerty  mur- 
mured  drows.  y  as  the  many  potations  tugg/d 
at  h.s  eyehds.  "  but  hurry,  you  darlin'."      ^^ 

ihen  he  thought  regretfully  of  the  physical 
TVu'  f^^'  Englishman.    After  all,  there 

iufpotsZ         "'""'"'''''"^''"^'^P-''^^ 
"  "'^'"^ '  P'"PS  he'll  bring  a  friend.    Faith 
Jen  there  wil   be  fun.    P'raps  he  will-by  Je 
f^:;"      He's  sure  to.     Yes,  there'll  be  Iport 

as  trAnd  '^■"""'"'^  '^''  °'"'  "^  '^'^  "^'^  kind, 
as  b.g  and  smewy  as  a  Punjabi  wrestler,  came 
^  d  gnpped  h™,  and  the  strength  of  the  stran! 

e 'stasvTf  '"  k"  "'''f ''  •"='"«  ''•*™^  ^'*  the 

-4ioraf'°'^'°^°"-'-^"^"«'^- 

189 


m 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

As  Finnerty  slept,  a  man  as  big  as  the  Red- 
dah  Sahib,  clad  in  a  towel  and  pajama  pants, 
stepped  from  a  bath  room  at  the  end  of  the 
hall.  It  was  Colonel  Le  Messurier;  and  if 
Finnerty  was  the  strongest  man  in  the  service, 
Le  Messurier  was  the  handsomest,  and  almost 
as  strong. 

The  colonel  slipped  quietly  along  to  Number 
9.  He  stared  when  he  saw  his  riding  boots  lying 
drunkenly  in  the  corridor,  and  muttered,  "  The 
devil  take  that  bearer  I  "  as  he  passed  through 
the  purdah. 

Inside  the  room  he  stared  again.  On  his  bed 
lay  a  huge,  rumpled  creature  snoring  volumi- 
nously. A  lighted  cheroot  was  sizzling  in  the 
pillow  case. 

"By  Jove!  of  all  the  infernal  cheek!  "  ex- 
claimed the  indignant  colonel.  Then  b"  laid  a 
heavy  hand  upon  the  sleeper's  arm,  and  Fin- 
nerty's  eyes  opening  fell  upon  a  pair  of  satin- 
skinned  shoulders  as  broad  as  a  gladiator's. 

The  Irishman  sprang  to  his  feet.  "  Och,  you 
boy — you've  come !  "  ne  cried  joyously,  as  he 
looked  straight  into  a  pair  of  blue-gray  eyes  that 
were  on  a  level  with  his  own.  "  Faith,  an* 
you're  ready  for  business,"  as  his  eye  took  in 
the  fighting  trim  of  the  stranger,  who  was 
stripped  to  his  waist. 

190 


FINNERTY   OF   THE    KEDDAH 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  queried  the 
gladiator. 

"  Waitin'  for  you,  you  darlin'  I  " 
"Waiting   for  me,   eh?"      The   gladiator 
dropped  the  boots  and  surveyed  the  dusty  im- 
print of  Finnerty's  feet  on  his  bed.    "  Get  out  I  " 
he  said. 

The  Keddah  Sahib  laughed,  and  tightened  his 
belt. 

"  Come,  leave  the  room  I  You've  got  a  devil- 
ish c«-tek." 

For  answer  Finnerty  slapped  him  on  the  chest 
with  the  flat  of  his  hand,  as  is  the  method  of 
wrestle's,  sprang  back,  and  crouched,  his  eyes 
wide  with  delight  at  the  gladiator's  excellence 
of  form.  Never  had  he  seen  in  India  such  a 
man;  tall  as  himself,  lithe  and  supple,  not  tied 
with  knotty  muscles,  but  the  biceps  and  the  tri- 
ceps and  the  broad  flat  fore  arm  big  and  smoodi 
and  covered  with  pink-white  skin  that  was  like 
a  woman's. 

^^  "You  blackguard,"  cried  the  gladiator. 
"  Leave  the  room,  or,  by  Jove,  I'll  throw  you 
out." 

"Begin,  you  dariin';  I'm  cryin'  with  joy. 
You're  the  loveliest  boy— for  the  love  of  God 
begin;  I'm  cryin'  with  joy." 

There  was  a  shimmer  of  white  skin  and  a 
191 


I    - 


m 


»         ii: 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

hand  of  steel  grasped  the  wrist  of  the  Keddah 
Sahib's  guard  and  the  tussle  was  on.  It  was  an 
affair  of  equality;  the  scarcity  of  furniture  con- 
duced  to  freedom  of  action. 

In  vain  Finnerty  had  drained  the  Punjaub  for 
a  man  of  his  own  might;  and  here,  in  the  grasp 
of  a  chanceling,  his  strength  was  held  in  check, 
and  his  art  was  matched  by  art,  and  his 
bones  creaked,  and  his  muscles  strained,  and 
he  had  come  by  sjiort  such  as  he  had  dreamed 
of. 

Finnerty's  shirt  hung  in  shreds.  Once  he 
found  time  to  strip  die  collar  from  his  swelling 
neck;  once  the  gladiator,  fastening  in  his  belt, 
lifted  him  from  die  floor  and  started  toward 
the  door.  Then  they  were  on  die  mat  and  Fin- 
nerty|s  breath,  made  thick  by  his  too  generous 
potations,  blew  hot  and  strong  against  the  pink 
chiek  of  the  gladiator. 

It  was  an  accident — Finnerty  would  have 
given  a  month's  pay  to  have  it  undone— but  his 
hand  slipped  on  the  moist  skin,  and  lifted  a  welt 
over  the  gladiator's  eye. 

"You  blackguard  I  You  cadi"  he  heard 
panted  through  the  set  teeth  of  the  gladiator, 
and  a  knee  knuckled  his  ribs  as  he  turned. 

Finnerty  took  "  to  the  bridge  "  for  a  breath- 
ing space,  and  a  smooth  hand  glided  beneath 
191 


FINNERTY   OF   THE    KEDDAH 

his  armpit,  and  a  hot  palm  lay  against  the  back 
of  his  neck. 

A  desolating  regret  filled  the  soul  of  the  Ked- 
dah  Sahib,  as  he  waited  cooling  his  lungs.  Here 
was  the  opportunity  of  a  lifetime,  and  he  rank 
out  of  condition. 

"  Curse  the  beer  sharab  I  Why  did  I  touch 
it?  "  he  moaned  inwardly.  "  I'm  an  old  wom- 
an— I'm  a  punkah  cooly — I'm  a  fat  baboo — 
that's  what  I  am  1  " 

Then  he  was  woven  sideways  till  his  spine 
was  like  a  corkscrew,  and  another  hand  came 
up  between  his  legs  and  laid  him  by  the 
thigh. 

"Och,    you    laddie-buckl"    he    muttered; 
"  you're  the  fairest  play  boy  from  over  the  sea, 
and  I'll  promise  you  this,  that  if  me  shoulder 
touch  the  mat,  I'll  walk  out  like  a  lamb  an 
give  you  me  own  room." 

Then  like  a  wire  jack-in-the-box  Finnerty 
spiraled  straight  through  the  holding  arms  and 
was  up  on  top  of  a  strong-bridged  back  that 
was  like  chiseled  ivory. 

"  Rest  a  bit,  you  darlin' !  Rest  a  bit,  you 
boyl "  he  said;  "  it's  yourself  that's  up  to  die 
game." 

Finnerty  looked  longingly  at  the  opening  he 
saw  for  die  "  strangle  hold";  he  shut  his  eyes 
193 


i 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

to  put  the  temptation  from  him— the  gladiator 
played  the  game  too  fair  for  a  trick. 

There  was  a  full  half-hour  of  this  joyous  en- 
tertainment;  the  first  fierce  onslaught  and  careless 
taking  of  chances  had  passed  away  and  decorum 
graced  the  game.  Also  there  was  a  suspicion  of 
lethargy  creeping  into  the  huge  muscles  that  had 
strained  assiduously. 

Because  of  the  frivolous  week,  Finnerty's  con- 
dition commenced  \o  tell.  Had  he  been  chasing 
hathis  in  the  jungle  during  that  time,  the  bout 
would  have  lasted  perhaps  till  midnight.  How- 
ever,  it  was  now  suddenly  terminated  by  a  bustle 
of  people  at  the  room  door. 

The  gladiator  loosed  his  grip  and  sprang 
ninbly  back,  and  the  Keddah  Sahib,  rising,  saw 
the  hotel  manager— in  fact,  the  hall  thronged 
with  sahibs  and  the  hotel  staff,  who  gazed  with 
a  mixture  of  awe  and  amusement  upon  the 
wrestlers. 

The  colonel's  silk  pajamas  were  no  more  than 
an  apology;  while  Finnerty,  from  the  belt  up, 
was  a  muscular  statu?  of  hand-spanked  flesh. 

"  Och,  Tremaime!  "  Finnerty  began,  but  the 
manager  interrupted  him  with  a  concise  repri- 
mand. No  more  wild  Irish  elephant-catchers 
for  the  Great  Eastern;  Finnerty  had  wrecked  a 
tiflSn  table,  made  a  bear's  garden  of  the  cafe, 
194 


FINNERTY   OF  THE   KEDDAH 

and  now  the  whole  hotel  had  been  thrown  into 
confusion  by  his  assault  upon  Colonel  Le  Mes- 
suner.  Indeed,  the  Keddah  Sahib  was  invited 
to  adjourn  to  some  other  hotel,  where  they 
looked  more  kindly  upon  such  proceedings 

It  was  the  Colonel  Sahib's  voice  interniptinii 
the  manager:  "  If  this  person  is  quite  finished 
with  my  room,  I  should  like  to  dress." 

,  "  r?r  7°™— *^'«  'oom?  "  queried  the  Ked- 
dah  ijahib,  looking  from  one  to  the  other. 
"  Yes,"  answered  Tremairne. 
Finnerty  looked  at  the  number  on  the  door, 
and  the  enormity  of  his  transgression  swept  him 
into  unspeakable  shame.    He  gathered  his  coat 
and  helmet;  in  the  hallway  he  said :  "  And  that's 
Colonel  Le  Messurierl    Sure,  I  thought  it  was 
a  pug  that  Brummagem  swine  had  hired  to  give 
me  a  turn.     And  I've  been  touseling  Colonel 
Le  Messuner  that's  just  been  transferred  as 
Collector  of  Dhuttaghur.    I  might've  known  it 
—1  ve  heard  of  him.     Me  soul's  watered  to 
take  a  throw  out  of  him-I  might've  known  it. 
«ut  he  s  a  swine  with  his  pride— I've  heard  that 
too.     Faith,  I'll  be  broke;  I  might  as  well  go 
down    and    feed    meself   to    the    muggars    in 
Hooghly  River." 

The  Keddah  Sahib,  depressed  to  the  edge  of 
misery,  sat  alone  in  his  room  and  brooded  over 
I9J 


ij 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

the  trouble  he  had  brought  upon  himKlf.  A 
physical  struggle  bearing  the  fruitage  of  a  black 
eye  or  a  strained  tendon  or  even  a  broken  limb 
was  a  small  matter;  but  to  lay  subordinate  hands 
of  violence  upon  his  Burra  Sahib,  Collector  of 
Dhuttaghur,  bung  up  his  eye,  and  leave  his  silk 
pajamas  in  tatters,  make  an  exhibition  of  him 
before  other  sahibs,  was  something  that  would 
set  a  black  mark  against  his  Service  name  many 
a  year  to  come.  A^  last  here  was  something  he 
could  not  leave  behind  him  in  Calcutta,  for  daily 
he  would  come  face  to  face  with  the  offended 
Burra  Sahib,  and  everyone  in  Dhuttaghur  would 
know.  Yes,  the  idea  of  the  muggan  in  the 
Hooghly  was  a  good  one. 

He  drank  a  strong  whisky  peg — then  he 
drank  another;  he  drank  three.  For  the  first 
time  in  his  remembrance  the  liquor  held  a  re- 
verse action,  it  depressed  him,  it  put  him  in  an 
ugly  mood.  He  cursed  the  innocent  cause  of 
his  trouble;  he  swore  jungle  oaths  at  the  land 
and  the  people  of  the  land. 

Mechanically  his  thoughts  came  back  in 
yearning-  to  Chota  Moti.  Yes,  that  was  all  he 
was  fit  for — homing  with  elephants;  they  were 
big  and  rough  in  their  way  like  himself.  He 
filled  his  pockets  with  the  sweets  intended  for 
Moti,  muttering  to  himself:  "  Hivins,  I'm  bluel 
196 


FINNERTY   OF  THE   KEDDAH 

I  must  talk  to  somebody  or  something.  I'll  go 
kharab  thinkin'  of  the  cooly-headed  fool  I  am 
entirely." 

When  he  went  downstairs  the  sahibs  shunned 
him.  Finnerty  passed  out  into  the  street  that 
skirted  the  maidan.  He  saw  men  at  work  on  the 
spot  where  the  circus  always  stood,  and  some 
one  said  that  the  circus  would  be  there  on  the 
morrow. 

Finnerty  swung  on  toward  the  river,  where 
the  thick-foiiage  trees  of  "  Eden  Garden  "  cut 
a  sky  that  was  like  burnished  copper  I'rom  the 
huge  ball  of  fire  that  had  seared  its  face  in  the 
west.  The  gray  wall  of  the  garden  lay  like 
a  shadowy  serpent  beneath  trees,  in  which  ati 
army  of  crows  fought  and  clamored  over  night 
resting  places.  Finnerty  swung  to  the  right 
along  a  skirting  path  that  was  silent  and  hushed, 
save  for  the  vociferous  crows. 

Suddenly  a  gray,  earth-colored  form  looir.ed 
bulkily  in  front  of  him.  It  was  like  a  leaf- 
covered  Hindoo  cart;  it  was  a  bulgy  form  like 
an  abnormal  bhesti's  water  mussock.  The  gro- 
tesque shadow  was  on  the  grassed  roadside,  close 
to  the  garden  wall,  and  some  part  of  it  was 
pulling  and  breaking  the  overhanging  tree 
limbs. 

As  the  Keddah  Sahib  approached,  wonder- 
197 


J  , 


II  V       r  il 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

ingly,  he  cut  the  wind,  and  the  wind  took  up 
the  call  of  hit  icent.  The  tearing  rustle  of  dis- 
membered leaves  ceased;  there  was  a  moment 
of  stillness;  then,  "Phr-u-i-i,  phr-u-t-t,  whee- 
e-e  I     came  little  inquiring  grunts. 

"HivinsI"  ejaculated  Finnerty;  "by  me 
•oul,  that's  little  Moti.  I'd  know  her  laugh  if 
I  heard  it  in  hell.  Wow,  you  little  pig,  you  I 
You  darlin'— you  babel  Where  did  you  come 
from?  Godin.hivinI  But  you're  welcome 
to-night,  Moti— I'm  fair  starved  with  1-  v 
someness." 

Finnerty  ran  his  hand  caressingly  up  and  down 
the  trunk  that  felt  at  his  cheek,  and  fingered 
his  nose,  and  blew  a  smile  of  delight  against  his 
lips,  and  tugged  at  his  shoulder  lovingly;  and 
all  the  time  its  owner  was  squeaking  tremulously 
in  an  ecstasy  of  reiognition. 

"  Moti,  you  little  pig— you  rascal!  Where 
did  you  come  from  ?  " 

The  big  ears  flapped  and  fanned  his  face,  and 
the  heavy  forehead  lay  against  the  IrisI  man's 
chest,  and  the  little  eyes  twinkled  happily— even 
in  the  dusk  Finnerty  could  feel  their  gleam. 

"Och,  you  sly  little  pearl  I"  As  Moti 
fumbled  her  trunk  into  his  pocket,  and  shoved 
taparees  and  grapes  and  raisins  into  her  thin- 
lipped  mouth. 

198 


FINNERTY   OF  THE    KEDDAH 

Finnerty  threw  himKlf  on  the  gran  at  the 

elephant's  feet  and  heaved  a  ligh  of  iatisfaction. 

"  Divil  the  care  have  you,  girl,  whether  I've 

touKled  the  Burra  Sahib  or  not.    Och,  you're 

a  human — you're  better." 

The  big  Iri»hman  patted  the  trunk  of  the 
babe  elephant,  and  talked  like  a  man  who  had 
come  back  to  women  folks  that  are  true  for- 
ever, holding  no  knowledge  of  misdeeds,  nor  of 
anything  but  just  fealty. 

And  Moti  emptied  the  Sahib's  pockets,  and 
bubbled  in  content,  and  wound  her  trunk  be- 
neath  his  shoulders  as  though  she  would  lift  him 
to  her  back. 

Suddenly  Moti  cocked  her  ears,  threw  her 
trunk  into  the  air,  and  stood  in  slknt  listening. 
^^  "What  is  it,  old  girl?"  Finnerty  asked. 
"Are  they  after  you?  Sure,  I  know  your  se- 
cret,  you  little  pig,  you've  skipped  away  at  the 
landin'  from  the  steamer;  you've  played  me  the 
same  trick  many  a  time  at  the  keddah.  Come 
on,  then,  girl;  we'll  just  slip  them  for  a  bit." 

Finnerty  led  the  way  through  a  gate  in  the 
wall,  and  with  Moti's  trunk  over  his  shoulder 
walked  along  the  circular  path  that  skirted  the 
wall.  He  could  hear  the  band  down  on  the 
grassed  parade  of  the  garden,  and  see  the  blare 
of  electric  lights  breaking  through  the  foliage. 
199 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

Suddenly  above  the  drone  of  brass  came  a  shrill 
trumpet  note. 

The  Keddah  Sahib  stopped  and  threw  his 
head  up  in  alarm.  It  was  the  war  trump  of  an 
elephant— fighting  mad;  he  knew  it  well.  Mot! 
squeaked  in  fretful  fear. 

"  My  God,  Moti,  did  the  whole  show  break 
loose?   Sure,  that's  a  bull  on  the  rampage.    God 

save  the  people " 

Again  tht  shrill  trumpet  of  an  elephant  came 
from  the  direction  of  the  promenade. 

"Come,  Moti,  chalo   (hurry),  me  darlin'I 
There'll  be  murder  done  yonder— there's  women 
and  children  there  by  the  score;  hurry,  Moti  I  " 
Finnerty  broke  into  a  trot,  and  the  babe  ele- 
phant shuffled  at  his  side.    Now  they  were  clesir 
of  the  crotons  and  the  banyans,  and  in  the  glare 
of  the  electric-lighted  promenade  the  sahib  saw 
something  that  made  even  his  stout  Irish  heart 
miss  a  beat.     It  was  awful.     Like  a  heap  of 
broken   dolls,   children   and   ayahs   and  white 
women  cowered  on  one  side  of  the  wide  grass 
promenade  against  a  holding  wall,  and  on  the 
other  side,  just  beyond  the  two  gateways,  was 
the  read,  a  seething  mass  of  maddened  horses 
and  fear-crazed  coachmen,  and  sahibs  who  had 
lost  their  nerve,  and  cursed  and  yelled  unintel- 
ligible orders,  and  clambered  into  carriages  that 
200 


FINNERTY   OF  THE    KEDDAH 

were  not  their  own.  And  in  the  center  of  the 
velvet  lawn,  just  within  the  gate,  was  the  huge 
towering  form  of  an  elephant  weaving  his  body 
back  and  forth,  from  side  to  side,  his  ears  cocked 
forwaid  angrily,  his  trunk  now  curling  in  be- 
tween his  tusks  as  if  for  a  charge,  now  stretched 
sinuously  upward  as  he  bellowed  his  defiance  to 
everything  on  earth. 

"Oh,  my  Godl"  moaned  Finnerty,  "he's 
fair  crazed  with  the  lights  and  the  band  and  all. 
How'll  I  stop  him?  The  fools— the  damned 
cowards  I  And  the  women  and  children  fright- 
ened to  death  there !  " 

There  was  a  gleam  of  white  at  his  elbow. 
Two  men  of  the  Black  Watch,  coming  through 
the  garden,  had  checked  in  their  way.  Fin- 
nerty's  big  hand  shot  out,  and  clutched  one  by  his 
white  tunic. 

"  Run,  man,  for  your  life,  to  the  fort,  bring 
a  firin'  squad— a  Gatlin'— anything.  For  the 
sake  of  the  children— run :  I'll  hold  the  tusker 
till  you  come.  Run,  man — as  you  love  God, 
hurry !  "    To  the  other  he  said : 

"  Go  to  the  children,  man.  Keep  down  at  the 
side  in  the  bushes.  Get  them  out — d'you  under- 
stand?" He  clutched  the  man  by  the  chest 
and  drew  him  forward  till  his  hot  breath  burned 
the  other's  cheek.    "Damn  you  I    Are  you  a 

201 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

coward?  Get  them  out,  or  I'll  murder  you. 
Throw  them  over  the  wall — anything.  I'll 
keep  the  elephant  for  a  bit." 

He  thrust  the  soldier  from  him,  and  the  two 
dived  into  the  bushes  on  the  left. 

"  Now,  Moti,  me  darlin' — och,  you're  feared, 
you  little  pig,  you're  tremblin'.  But  I'm  with 
you,  Moti.  You'll  go  where  the  Keddah  Sa- 
hib drives — ^you  always  would.  Quick,  give  me 
your  trunk  now;  there,  so  I  " 

And  the  Keddah  Sahib  was  lifted  to  the  babe 
elephant's  neck;  his  knees  pressed  against  her 
ears,  and  his  heavy,  iron-shod  walking  stick  was 
a  goad.  Finnerty  jabbed  it  fiercely  into  the 
pulpy  skull  of  his  mount. 

"  There,  Moti,  dauro  now !  Squeal,  you  lit- 
tle pig !  "  And  Finnerty  dug  with  his  walking 
stick  till  the  little  trunk  was  thrown  up,  uttering 
a  wail  of  remonstrance. 

The  mad  tusker  heard  the  call  of  his  kind  just 
as  he  was  shuffling  toward  the  screaming  chil- 
dren and  ayahs.  He  stopped,  threw  his  huge 
head  up,  and  his  great,  fanlike  ears  waved  back 
and  forward,  and  then  cocked  intently. 

Finnerty  drove  Moti  into  the  light,  and  the 
tusker's  restless  eye  saw  them.  He  whisked 
about  and  trumpeted  a  defiance. 

The  babe  squealed  in  fear,  and  stopped. 
202 


FINNERTY  OF  THE   KEDDAH 

"Dauro,  Motil"  Finnerty  cried,  hunching 
the  big  ears  with  his  knees,  and  jabbing  the  skull 
with  his  goad.  Moti  obeyed,  and  shuffled 
forward. 

Finnerty  could  see  the  white-coated  soldier 
driving  the  children  before  him  like  a  flock  of 
Iambs.  A  sahib  leaped  the  wall  and  ran  to  the 
children;  then  another. 

"By  the  grace  of  God,  they'll  be  saved  1" 
Finnerty  cried,  "  if  I  can  hold  this  big  devil  in 
play.  Squeal,  you  little  pig— give  him  bat, 
Moti.  We  must  keep  away  from  him— just 
play  with  him,  me  darlin' — the  devil's  fair  ram- 
pageous. There,  just  stand  where  you  are, 
Moti ;  it'll  take  him  time  to  make  up  his  mind  to 
charge." 

The  Keddah  Sahib  knew  every  trick  of  the 
elephant.  He  knew  that  while  the  tusker's  at- 
tention  was  fixed  on  him  and  Moti,  the  children 
and  the  sahibs  and  everything  would  be  for- 
gotten—they would  escape.  The  tusker  would 
probably  wait,  ready  to  give  battle,  and  Fin- 
ncrty's  plan  was  to  keep  clear  of  the  maddened 
brute.  If  he  closed  in,  the  bull  would  crush 
them  both;  unless,  perhaps,  he  had  an  affection 
for  Moti,  when  he  might  calm  down.  This 
was  not  at  all  likely,  for  the  bulls,  when  angry, 
were  vicious  toward  their  young. 
M  203 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

With  difficulty  Finnerty  kept  the  babe  from 
bolting.  Perhaps  it  was  the  white-coated  sol- 
dier that  caught  the  bull's  eye  again,  for  he 
suddenly  wheeled  as  if  to  charge  and  trample 
the  fleeing  children. 

"  He's  jast  a  crazy  brute — he's  fair  mast," 
Finnerty  muttered.  "  Chalo,  Moti  1  Squeal, 
you  little  pig  I  Give  him  tongue  I "  and  he 
jabbed  the  babe's  head  till  she  trumpeted  shrilly, 
and  started  forward. 

Her  call  stopped  the  tusker  again.  He 
wheeled  erratically,  and,  without  stopping,  came 
thundering  down  the  lawn  like  a  destroying 
tornado. 

"Steady,  Motil"  Finnerty  yelled;  but  the 
babe,  crazed  with  fear,  whipped  around  clum- 
sily, and  started  back  over  the  pathway. 

But  the  turn  held  her;  she  was  weak  from 
fear.  In  a  dozen  yards  the  bull  had  driven 
his  tusks  into  Moti's  rump,  and  as  she  fell 
Finnerty  wa.:  pinned  beneath  her  massive 
head. 

When  the  men  from  Fort  William  swung 
into  the  garden  on  the  run,  they  heard  a  vicious 
squealing  cry  of  victory  and  hate  from  the 
tusker;  and  he  was  tramping  something  into  the 
earth  with  his  knees  and  tusks  when  they  poured 
volley  after  volley  into  his  huge  carcass. 
304 


FINNERTY   OF   THE    KEDDAH 

avaIl!Vi"'fr  ""^  *'*'  """""Whs  and  the 
ayahs  had  all  cKaped  unhurt. 

That  is  why,  when  you  ask  in  India  of  Fin- 
nerty  of  the  Elephant  Keddah,  they  tell  you  this 
story  first.  ' 


205 


THE    APOSTASY    OF    MOUNG    PYU  * 


THE  four  trails  that  lead  out  like  a  Mal- 
tese cross  abroad  the  world  never  get 
beyond  the  land  of  the  simple  life. 
And  this  is  a  simple  account  of  Moung  Pyu's 
crusade  for  spiritual  betterment  for  himself  and 
the  three  hundred  villagers  of  Mindak,  in 
Burma. 

Moung  Pyu  was  bom  a  Buddhist;  he  sat  at 
the  feet  of  the  Talopins  and  imbibed  theological 
wisdom  from  the  sacred  book,  the  Vini.  The 
deputy  commissioner  of  the  district  took  a 
fancy  to  the  dark-eyed,  yellow-skinned  little 
Burman,  and  had  him  placed  in  a  government 
school.  Then  Moung  Pyu  got  a  clerkship,  and 
after  a  time  he  was  made  dcjjuty  assistant  mag- 
istrate of  the  third  grade,  and  ff^oon  of  his  own 
village,  Mindak. 

What  Moung  Pyu  thought,  Mindak  thought; 
and  when  Moung  Pyu  advised,  Mindak  con- 
curred. Even  the  chief  commissioner  at  Ran- 
goon knew  this;  and  whatever  there  was  to  be 

*  Moung  Pyu  (pronounced  Pu)  trantlated  is  Ml.  White. 
206 


THE    APOSTASY    OF    MOUNG    PYU 

settled  or  adjusted  in  Mindak  District  was  in- 
cased  in  large,  official  blue  envelopes,  tied  with 
red  tape,  clo.:d  with  the  awful  seal  of  the  Brit- 
ish Raj,  and  sent  to  Moung  Pyu.  There  was 
never  any  worry  after  that.  The  chief  com- 
missioner sighed  with  satisfaction;  the  commis- 
sioner  of  Aracan  nodded  his  old  head  in  wise 
appreciation;  the  deputy  commissioner  got  the 
kudos  (glory)  of  it  all;  and  Moung  Pyu,  dep- 
uty assistant  magistrate  of  the  diird  grade,  ad- 
justed the  unpleasantness. 

He  was  a  dapper  little  man  with  his  jacket 
of  white  cloth,  his  gay  silk  putsoe  that  had  been 
made  in  the  hand  looms  of  Mandalay,  and  the 
white  handkerchief  wound  jauntily  about  his 
heavy  black  hair,  the  two  ends  sticking  up  like 
the  wings  of  a  bird — ^this  was  the  insignia  of  a 
village  elder,  and  Moung  Pyu  was  that  in 
excelsis. 

Under  Moung  Pyu's  rule  MinJak  was  Uto- 
pia. The  Buddhist  priests,  the  Talopins,  waxed 
sleek  in  content;  and  the  little  pagoda  on  Tiger 
Hill  had  been  regilt  with  pure  gold  leaf,  till  its 
slender  tapering  form  rose  from  a  dark  emerald 
setting  of  mangoe  tree  and  padouk  and  tama- 
rind, and  penciled  the  blue  sky  a  gleaming  plinth 
of  reflected  sunlight.  This  had  come  from  the 
purse  of  Moung  Pyu.  He  could  not  forever 
207 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

be  sending  away  the  little  bags  of  rupees  that 
so  mysteriously  appeared  upon  his  writing  table, 
so  he  exorcised  the  little  devil  of  corruptive  in- 
fluence that  was  in  the  silver  disks  by  putting 
them  to  work  for  the  spiritual  betterment  of  his 
people. 

Poh  San,  who  had  been  Woon  before  Moung 
Pyu,  had  kept  all  these  little  gifts  that  are  the 
dustoor  (perquisites)  of  native  officials,  and  had 
married  six  wives.  At  the  last,  when  the  shadow 
of  Nirvana  threw, a  chill  over  the  soul  of  Poh 
San,  he  prepared  a  little  cave  temple  in  the  soft 
rock  of  Tiger  Hill,  placed  in  it  a  square-toed, 
alabaster  Buddha,  and  died  full  of  honor  and 
sanctity.  That  was  Poh  Sa  «  way,  which  was 
the  way  of  all  rich,  good  Burmans.  But  Moung 
Pyu  beautified  the  pagoda  and  repaired  the 
priests'  zyat  (dwelling),  and  married  but  one 
wife;  and  after  a  time  she  died,  and  left  two 
little  girls  with  Moung  Pyu. 

The  religion  that  the  Talopins  taught  was 
mystical,  altogether  simple  and  beautiful.  It 
was  a  sin  to  take  life,  because  all  life  was  one 
under  different  forms;  so  Moung  Pyu  ate  not 
even  an  egg,  lest  the  spirit  of  some  ancestor 
might  have  come  back  to  assume  the  feathered 
garb  of  a  fowl.  And  the  Vini  read  that  liquor 
— so  much  as  might  cling  to  the  point  of  a  knife 
208 


THE   APOSTASY    OF    MOUNG    PYU 

—was  harmful;  so  Moung  Pyu  drank  milk  and 
water  and  the  milk  of  cocoanuts,  and  pondered 
over  the  wise  sayings  of  Gaudama  Buddha. 

The  religion  of  the  sahibs  that  were  down 
m  Phrang  he  judged  of  entirely  by  the  canons 
of  his  own  faith.  The  sahibs  ate  the  flesh  that 
had  carried  life,  they  drank  the  forbidden  liq- 
uor;  they  also  did  other  things  that  the  priests 
said  were  wrong  and  evil  in  the  eyc<  >f  Buddha 
Gaudama. 

But  it  happened  that  even  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Talopins  there  was  one  godly  person  of  the  white 
man's  faith,  a   woman,   "Craig  Memsahib." 
She  was  a  Baptist  missionary  from  America. 
Her  husband  had  died  in  harness  in  Burma 
some  years  before,  and  she  had  gone  on  in  a  sim- 
pie.  Christian  spirit,  after  the  manner  of  Christ 
Himself.     All  through  Aracan  were  childre.i 
whose  fathers  had  been  white  men,  and  who 
had  gone  back  to  their  own  country.     Craig 
Memsahib  gathered  these  half-orphaned  ones 
mto  her  train  of  poor  followers  whenever  she 
could.    It  was  a  gladsome  sight  to  see  her  wan- 
dering about  the  districts,  from  village  to  viJ- 
lage,  with  her  devoted  children.     When  they 
were  small  she  had  them  placed  in  schools;  the 
larger  ones  she  took  with  her. 

Craig  Memsahib  came  many  times  to  Min- 
209 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

dak;  and  because  of  his  knowledge  that  she  was 
indeed  a  holy  woman,  Moung  Pyu  commenced 
to  listen,  at  first  with  doubting  curiosity.  But 
as  gently  as  a  soft  hand  opens  a  flower,  Craig 
Memsahib  discovered  for  the  Woon  the  beauti- 
ful truth  of  a  life  as  Christ  would  have  it.  He 
began  to  see  that  the  Talopins  taught  all  of  the 
flesh  life,  or  of  nothing;  all  was  of  the  earth, 
and  returning  to  earth,  a  chain  of  existence  lead- 
ing  to  nothing  but  the  end  of  everything. 

All  this  came  not  as  it  may  be  told  in  a  day, 
or  a  moon,  but  in  many  moons;  and  in  the  end 
Moung  Pyu   gravely  announced  that   all  his 
people— the  people  of  Mindak— now  were  Bap- 
tists.    He  had  read  and  pondered,  and  come  by 
a  more  beautiful  trudi  than  was  in  the  Vini,  or 
in  the  shaven-headed  craniums  of  the  yellow- 
robed  Talopins,  and  his  people  would  now  profit 
by  his  discovered  blessing  and  become  Baptists. 
This  wholesale  conversion  of  three  hundred 
Buddhists  brought  prayers  of  thankfulness  from 
the  simple  Christian  woman  Craig  Memsahib. 
But,  unfortunately,  the  fame  of  it  came  to  die 
ears  of  the  Rev.  Beldon  Hobbs,  of  Phrang.    He 
was  clergyman  of  the  Church  of  England,  the 
Established  Church,  which  means  first  claim  on 
all  diings  spiritual.     In  addition,  the  Rev.  Bel- 
don Hobbs  was  many  other  things  akin  to  arro- 

2IO 


THE    APOSTASY    OF    MOUNG    PYU 

gance     He  w„  large  and  pompou,  and  doled 
out  religion  a.  aim,,  holding  that  he  had  full 
vicarage  from  the  Lord  for  the  salvation  of  a 
people..    So  he  blustered,  and  went  in  right  ou 
.nd.gnat.on  to  the  deputy  commi„ioner-thc 
church  and  the  state  were  inseparable.     That 

^T  u?       "'''  """=  "'"^"  ""=  dominion  of 

to  Hobbs,  altogether  an  outrage.    They  might 
as  well  turn  dacoits  at  once. 

cala^J"  ""'  psychological  moment  a  serious 
calamity  occurred.  The  brave  little  Craig 
Memsah.b  d.ed,  ministering  to  the  people  of  a 
vdlage  stncken  with  cholera.  The  metamor 
phos.s  of  Buddhistic  Mindak  had  not  bTe„  nuUe 
completed,  for  the  villager,  were  to  have  be  n 

the  Rev.  John  Blackmar.  from  Phrang.    Now 

tl7"]  f'^'  '"'^  ^°""«  Py"'  d««ding  the 
spmtual  dom,n.on  of  Rev.  Hobbs  as  Le- 
2^g  worse  even  than  the  power  of  the  Talo- 

d^ped  the  obedient  villagers,  declaring  that 

now  they  were  .ndred  of  the  faith  of  the  holy 

woman  they  had  all  revered.  ^ 

Then  came  the  Rev.  Blackmar  too  late  for 

211 


THIRTEEN   MEM 

this  baptiimal  furction.  He  was  a  zealoui, 
narrow-minded  little  man — a  itickler  for  teneta 
and  observancei,  and  religion  according  to  pre- 
Kribed  method.  He  meant  well,  but  he  didn't 
know.  To  him  the  Buddhists  were  pagans,  be- 
nighted worshipers  of  graven  images.  He  used 
to  say  these  things,  honestly  enough,  but  with- 
out understanding.  So  he  reprimanded  Moung 
Pyu  for  his  assumption  of  ministerial  power,  and 
explained  that  becoming  a  Baptist  was  not  a 
haphazard  affair. 

Moung  Pyu  was  wise  enough  to  know  that 
neither  the  Rev.  Blackmar  nor  the  Rev.  Hobbs 
nor  even  the  holy  teacher  Craig  Memsahib 
were  Christianity  itself.  But  rhe  manner  of 
faith  that  had  won  Moung  Pyu  was  the  sweet 
Christly  love  religion  of  Craig  Memsahib ;  and 
this  other  repellent,  formal  dogmatism  that  was 
of  the  little  sharp-nosed  minister  drove  Moung 
Pyu  into  revolt,  and  he  declared,  with  Burmese 
vivacity,  that  if  tticy  were  not  now  Baptists  they 
were  indeed  not  Baptists  at  all. 

So  the  Rev.  Blackmar  preached  to  the  big, 
pink-clustered  padouk  tree,  while  the  villagers 
went  down  to  the  many-caved  temples  in  Tiger 
Hill  with  offerings  of  rice  and  sweetmeats  to 
the  alabaster  Buddhas;  and  in  the  end  the  con- 
scientious minister  went  disconsolately  back  to 

212 


THE    APOSTASY    OF    MOUNG    PYU 
OriTnul  *°'''°"''"*  °^"  ^'  initability  of  the 

The  little  pilgrimage  to  the  cave  temples  had 
been  wlely  a  polite  intimation  ..  the  minister, 
and  not  a  real  reapostasy,  for  the  Woon  was 

"llorB^S'dlil'''"'"'"^"''''--^'- 
By  this  time  the  Rev.  Beldon  Hobbs  had 
harassed    the    deputy    commissioner   over   the 
Woon  of  Mindak's  apostasy,  and  through  him 
the  commissioner;  and  the  commissioner,  with 
repugnance  in  his  soul,  had  memorializeH  the 
chief  commissioner.    The  correspondence,  v.ith 
notes  and  comments,  had  all  come  back  as  weap- 
ons of  offense  to  Padre  Hobbs.     So  he  went 
up  into  the  land  o.'  Mindak  with  a  flaming 
sword,  bearing  an  order  from  the  deputy  com- 
missioner that   he   was  to   have  carrien  and 
transport   and    boats    and   whatever   else    his 
sweet  will  desired.    That  was  essentially  Padre 
Hobbs  s  way-the  repellent,  enforcing  method, 
so  unlike  the  love  manner  of  Christ  and  Craig 
Memsahib.  * 

.hh"/  ''*'L«°"^•'y  •«>«  from  Phrang  to  Oung; 

path  to  Mindak.    But  when  the  men  of  Ou„,- 1 

fused  to  convey  him  to  Mindak,  because  a  pair  of 

man-eating  tigers  had  made  a  preserve  of  the 

213 


THIRTEEN    MEN 


jungle  bordering  the  trail,  Padre  Hobbs  showed 
his  order  to  the  village  headman,  and  explained 
that  the  latter  would  lose  his  place  and  the  vil- 
lage would  be  fined  and  the  people  would  sit 
forever  in  the  black  disfavor  of  the  commis- 
sioner if  the  carriers  and  the  bullock  carts  were 
not  forthcoming. 

Padre  Hobbs  always  had  his  way,  even  in 
Phrang;  so  the  headman  forced  the  frightened 
villagers  out  into  the  jungle;  and  there  the 
padre,  who  was  large  in  self-reliance,  explained 
that  desertion  would  be  a  personal  affront,  and 
he  would  deal  with  it  personally  to  the  utter 
extermination  of  the  misguided  deserters. 

Once,  fearing  the  blood  thirst  of  "  Stripes  " 
and  his  wife  more  than  the  Padre  Sahib's  anger, 
two  carriers  loitered  behind  looking  for  a  chance 
to  desert.  The  Padre  Sahib  put  this  little  mat- 
ter of  delinquency  right,  in  his  promised  way, 
and  foolishly,  so  far  as  the  Christian  faith  was 
concerned,  struck  one  of  the  men  with  his  walk- 
ing stick.  Individually  Padre  Hobbs  would 
have  paid  this  debt  of  hate  incurred  quickly 
enough,  but  officially  he  represented  the  British 
Raj,  the  Sircar,  so  all  that  happened  in  the  way  of 
retribution  was  the  relating  of  this  story  in  Min- 
dak  when  they  arrived.  And  because  of  the  story 
the  clergyman  might  as  well  have  sat  in  Phrang, 
214 


THE    APOSTASY    OF    MOUNG    PYU 

for  the  Talopins  explained  that  the  new  religion 
of  love  anii  soul  and  other  beautiful  things  had 
die  f  with  Crai^;  Memsahib,  and  this  was  alto- 
getiin  a  differ  ;nt  affair.  It  was  not  religion  at 
all — it  was  zabbardasti,  which  means  force  by 
men  in  power.  Thus  the  padre's  arrogant  per- 
sonality subverted  the  true  thing;  and  the  Talo- 
pins saw  to  it  that  it  did. 

Moung  Pyu,  being  an  Oriental,  had  greater 
wisdom  than  a  serpent,  for,  when  it  was  all  for 
the  best,  he  could  preserve  a  silence  that  was  of 
the  most  refined  gold.  So  he  said  to  his  adhe- 
rents:  "The  Padre  Sahib  is  of  low  caste,  for 
the  men  of  high  caste  do  not  lose  their  tempers, 
except  when  the  swords  drink  blood.  But  what 
he  has  done  we  have  not  seen,  and  what  he  has 
said  we  have  not  heard.  If  he  departs  in  peace 
then  there  will  be  peace  in  Mindak;  for  one  of 
his  hands  is  the  law,  and  one  of  his  hands  is  the 
sahib's  way  of  faith,  and  these  two  things  are 
greater  than  the  Padre  Sahib  or  the  people  of 
Mindak." 

It  was  a  crude  jungle  parable,  which  the  vil- 
lagers but  half-understood;  but  Moung  Pyu  had 
said  it,  therefore  it  stood  as  a  saying  of  King 
Theebaw's  had  in  the  old  days.  And  the  Eng- 
lish  clergyman  wallowed  back  to  Phrang  unc- 
tioning  his  soul  with  the  credit  of  martyrdom 
215 


jl 

i'  i 

'!     I  J 

i 


'        li 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

because  of  the  sweltering  jungle  pilgrimage; 
and  there  he  wrote  in  the  records  that  three  hun- 
dred  converts  had  come  into  the  fold  of  the 
Established  Church. 

The  deputy  commissioner  groaned  and  admin- 
istered the  law  with  fierce  relentlessness  for  days 
when  he  realized  that  the  padre's  disturbing  in- 
fluence had  extended  out  into  the  district;  for 
now  there  would  be  endless  complaints  from  the 
Talopms  of  illegal  interference,  and  many  other 
tribulations. 

When  the  padre  had  departed  Moung  Pyu 
sat  down  and  wrote  to  the  commissioner  for  six 
months'  leave  of  absence.  And  when  the  leave 
had  come,  he  said  to  Mindak:  "I  am  going 
across  the  big  black  water  to  the  land  of  the 
sovereign,  to  Bilatti  (England)." 

Mindak  was  astonished,  but  it  didn't  say  so. 
What  It  said  was:  "  The  Sovereign  will  be  gra- 
ciously pleased  to  see  Moung  Pyu,  and  when 
Moung  Pyu  returns  he  will  be  as  wise  as  the 
great  Commissioner  Sahib  in  Rangoon." 

Moung  Pyu  said  a  few  words  of  wisdom  to 
the  Talopms,  advising  them  to  meditate  deeply 
among  themselves  while  he  was  gone;  that  their 
lacquer  trays  for  receiving  votive  offerings  of 
food  would  be  well  supplied  if  they  preserved 
an  mtense  holy  seclusion.  And  to  the  village 
216 


THE    APOSTASY    OF    MOUNG    PYU 

cuss  this  question  of  what  is  to  be  when  we  pass 
away,  because  now  we  have  heard  Craig  Mem 
sah.b  and  the  Baptist  Mission  Sahib  fnd  tJl 
great  Church  Sahib,  who  is  Hobbs,  and  our  own 

there  are  many  witnesses  on  both  sides    and 
judgment  cannot  be  given   unfil    thl  • 

all  rU,-      It    L       .  ^  ""*"   *"^  case   IS 

aJ    clear.     If  there  had  been  no  one  but  the 
Talopins  the  case  would  have  been  simp"     or 

iTke^fn  '  ""<l"^tood;  but  now  we  are 

Moung  Pyu  left  the  two  little  girls  with  their 
from  this  book  that  Craig  Memsahib  gave  diem 

underlnd  tr  ""'  '""""=  "  ''"'^  ^'>'l'^-  to 
unaerstand  this  great  secret." 

217 


rl'i 


M 


III 


;  '     1 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

bears  only  on  the  intricate  matter  of  his  many 
conversions  in  Burma. 

Five  and  one-half  months  from  the  date  of 
Moung  Pyu's  departure  it  was  Icnown  in  Phrane 
that  he  would  arrive  back  by  the  Karagola. 

fn.h  pf'^'^i"^  '"*  °^  P"""«^"  Published 
m  the  Phrang  News  the  day  before  the  Kara- 
^s  arrival  contained  not  the  name  of  Moung 

No  one  in  Phrang  suspected  that  the  "  Mr 
White  ,n  the  list  was  the  Woon  of  Mindak, 
Anghcized-but  it  was.  And  Moung  Pyu 
stepped  from  the  steamer  at  Phrang  as  Mr 
White,  the  most  extraordinarily  metamorphosed 
Onental  that  ever  caused  a  man  to  rub  his  eyes 
in  bewildered  astonishment. 

heavy  black  hair  had  been  cut  away  to  exceeding 
closeness.  A  stiff  white  collar  was  graced  by  a 
most  intense  four-in-hand  tie,  reflecting  the 
blood-red  glitter  of  a  ruby-studded  pin  A 
lit  TV"^  f  "y-«riped  trousers,  cut  in  the 
ktest  fashion,  draped  the  slim  figure  of  Mr. 
White  down  to  gray  spats  and  buttoned  patent- 
eather  boots  His  slim,  gray-gloved  fingers 
jauntily  carried  a  gold-headed  cane. 

The  sahibs  who  knew  Moung  Pyu,  and  loved 
him  for  his  fealty  to  the  British  Raj.  screamed 
218 


fill 


THE    APOSTASY    OF    MOUNG    PYU 

^^  Pa  \  T  "^  ^^'  '^'  ^'•"'■"8  ««le  Bur. 
aTall  A„H  h  ''"^^^  ^''--^hly  if  he  did  it 
at  all.    And  he  had-there  could  be  no  manner 

Itt  ^'°""''"'  ''^  °™^"  ^^''^-^  - 
But  there  was  still  something  more-some- 
«..ng  very  much  more;  for  beside  the  dapper 
Mr.  Whue  walked  a  sweet-faced  English  gir 

MirR;vd"^'r  ^  ^-^^  Estella^Roydon 
M  ss  Roydon  had  come  out  as  governess  for 
Mr.  White's  two  motherless  girls 

When  this  was  told  at  the  Gymkhana  Club 
he  sah.bs  laughed  merrily;  when  they  carried 

ttirVv^'it  "^r'"'"^  '^"^'"^^  --- 

tically.     Everybody  m  Phrang  laughed,  except 
two  men-Padre  Hobbs  .nd  One  Sahib.         ' 
Padre  Hobbs  rolled  his  eyes  in  horror;  then 

Oner's  K-r'u  °'  ^"^^  denunciation;  and  th^ 
One  Sah.b,  who  was  like  a  blood  brother  to 
Moung  Pyu,  drew  his  face  into  a  frown  of  com" 
m.erat.on  and  then  went  and  talked  to  the  Me 

fh-^'ll  \.^'^^'^  ^'"^  •J""t'°"s,   and  learned 
this:  that  Moung  Pvu  haH  f™.„^  '"mca 

Enirlan^  ™i,  •  ""'^  ^  woman  in 

England  who  was  as  simple  a  Christian  as  Craig 
M  msah.b  had  been     And  there,  where  th";! 

tTn     ^u      "^  ''°'^'"'  '^'  '^"s  very  poor- 
Aough  her  people  had  not  always  bTen  poor 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


And  Moung  Pyu  had  reasoned  that  if  this  good 

the   same   Christian  Jove  wisdom   th.t   Craic 
Memsah.b  had  known,  the  girls  would  grow  up 

Lcorl    ,  rt''  "*^  *'  ^'""8^"  ^°"W  also 
become  I.ke  that^  and  there  would  be  no  doubt- 

ng  because  of  Hobbism  or  Blackmarism  or  the 
soulless  faith  of  the  Talopins. 

When  Moung  Pyu  told  this  child  story,  that 
was  really  so  very  wise,  the  One  Sahib  knew  and 
beheved  that  .t  was  all  and  all;  but  he  also  knew 
what  Padre  Hobbs  had  said  about  this  Z^Z 
f  M  fe  '"'"'"'^'"^  ''•'"«•  So,  very  sadly,  he 
wouldnt  do,  and  explained  why.  The  whv 
was,  that  nobody  in  India  believed  anything  but 
ev    where  there  was  a  woman  in  the  case   and 

Sthem  ^''^''  ^°^^'  ^""''J"'* 

Then  the  One  Sahib  went  back  to  his  bunga- 

low  and  said  to  his  wife:  "  For  God's  sake  go 

and  bnng  that  English  girl  here  to  stay  with 

pCibler  '''  '-'''  ^''-  ™^"  ^^^- 

dolt  °"r  ?'"''  ^'^  ''"''  *^*  '^'  «"tr«g"us 
c  othes  and  hat  and  spats  that  turned  the  splen- 
did httle  Burman  into  a  paroquet  were  due  solely 

220 


THE    APOSTASY    OF    MOUNG    PYU 

Savor,  .0,  bukb]i„g  .i*  Mp...^  «,"  °  ^^ 
forth  and  swooped  down  unnn  *»,.  i         . 

his  Bond  Street  appa«7    '  ""'"• '"«'  '" 

veJ^Tf   ^'^'^   '''"^'^   «"™'«"   ^y«   opened 

Se  thT  R  '°     "°"'  *^*"'"'"«-    And  after  a 
inger        ^"""''"  '^"  «"-  ^'°"<Jy  with  red 

"  Woman  ?  "  he  ouenVH     ••  tu 

h,?HV  *''u-^'/"  •'"""''  *"■'  ™*''^'««  nose  in  a  big 
unb"etf  T  r'r'"^"^''  '"  condemn;.';" 
r  dun;  J  r  ^°""«  ^^'^  ^"^''^  were  but 
the  duphcty  of  a  Burman.  However,  thank 
God  no  su  tie  Oriental  could  pull  the  wo'ol  ov„ 

church     th  ^'  '"  """'''^^  ''8'i"^*  the 

ere     r    k'°'".'"""°""  ^°"1''  ""^'nly  inter- 

fere-somehow  it  would  reflect  upon  the  state 

heStTfl'^-^'  '"'  ^'^-^^P-e-d 

there  "^'  ''"P'"^"^  "'  'vi'  '"tent  where 

there  was  none,  was  a  disquieting  revelation  to 

the  boy-mmded  Burman.     Somehow,  as  Padre 

221 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


tasteful  to  Moung  Pyu;  they  seemed  to  dra 
s  spicLT    fV"'"-P'»-    of   contaminatL 

r^l  M  u  *"'  *"""  P"'*"'  «nd  little  jack, 
he  could  have  spoken  out  indignantly  as  iZ 
ple-hving  V  llaeer-  all  fi,.  „      i      ,  ■ . 

were  moral  S  S  n  h.r"  "^  '  ^•"'«' 
buf  h.  1,  J  .         "***  married  six  wives 

to  the.>  i      'T"'''  ^''^"^'■^  '^^  «cordin 
to  the  r  law.    Moung  Pyu  looked  down  at  the 

gljtenng  buttoned  boots  and  the  silirspat^ 

ndeed  they  ye„  more  of  that  life  he'h  d   H^ 

lives   than  of  the  village  where  no  one  would 

So   presently,  Moung  Py„,  answering,  said- 
You  are  altogether  wrong.  Minister  Sah  bX 

be  a'^  Tn  "'  "«''*•    ^'  *""  »  B"--.    nd  to 
be  a  good  Burman  is  very  good-for  a  Burman 
Miss  Roydon  IS  too  good  a  woman  to  be™  re 
where  people  speak  ill  of  her.  so  she  must  g^ 
Srttt""-    ^-"P^^^^^Hepassageafd 
offT^'"  if'  P'^drc  had  gone,  Moung  Pyu  took 
half  ;L;^,'"^'""P.''"'^  «»-  '»'«  ^l^th«  to  a 
siS  •    I        J"  "'^  ''''=«^''P*'  ''"'•■ce.     He 
feet  into  the  canvas  shoes  that  had  been  made 

222 


11  :l 


THE    APOSTASY    OF    MOUNG    PYU 

Engl,,h  girl's  expenses,  said  good-by  to  h  r  and 
went  back  to  Mindak.  ' 

n,  J'T*'"'  """""""'d  the  Talopins  beneath  the 
padouk  tree,  and  said:  "  We  must  keep  to  al 
hat  .s  good  .n  the  faith  of  our  fatl.e. ..    BuddJa 
taught  us  no  evil,  the  evil  coa.es  of  oursles 

yaig  Memsahib  comes  again,  who  can  keen  us 
dose  to  their  Christ  and  teach  us  so  that  wTcan 
understand,  perhaps  we  will  listen." 

What  the  girl  said  to  the  One  Sahib  when  he 
put  her  on  the  steamer  for  home  was :  "  Moune 
Pyu  .8  the  gentlest  Christian  I  ever  knew  » 


*»3 


NAWAZ  KHAN,  THE  GIFT  OF  ALLA 

I  Liz!  '"^V''  '^"^  ^'^^  ^°'n«  down 

my  tent  to  male  •>  ♦        r     . .         "^  ^'^^  from 

AlUltrat^tdcven    "'"'"''•^'^""^^^^^^ 
224 


NAWAZ    KHAN,    GIFT  OF   ALLAH 

Six  footsore  brigands  made  sandals  from  my 
leather  gun  case,  and  then  came  and  hobnobbTd 
with  me  over  a  pot  of  tea.    They  were  proud 
of  their  new  foot  wear;  the  oak-tanned  wies 
peeped  at  me  joyously  from  beneath  the  square 
rugged  toes  of  the  unabashed  Pathans.    I  sa?d 
nothmg  about  this  little  matter-controver  y 
might  have  ended  with  a  slit  in  my  neck;  they 
had  such  a  summary  way  of  ending  unpl  asant 
arguments.  *^ 

My  ^ide,  who  was  a  first  cousin  to  these  out- 
aws  m  deviltry,  wa,  the  best-natured  blackguard 

for  he  had  the  wisdom  of  the  serpent. 

These  dwellers  in  caves."  he  said.  "  are  the 
unregenerate  offspring  of  depraved  ca^elin-also 
of  evil  swine;  therefore  take  no  notice,  and  we 
wilUet  through  pleasantly  enough-lwithou! 

His  policy  was  sound;  so  the  Marris  and  I 
remained  on  the  very  best  of  tenns.  They  even 
showed  me  Nawaz  Khan,  the  fighting  ram  7at 
had  bucked  into  oblivion  every  other  ram  from 

?hT^^T  '°  ^'*'^"-    A"<^  '•"""S''  of  that 
they  had  been  exalted  among  the  ram-fighting 
man-fighting.  any-sort-of-fighting  nations  of  that 

At  the  guide's  suggestion.  I  gave  the  owner. 

325 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


n 


Rabat  Shah,  five  rupcei  to  make  tilver  knob 

for  the  points  of  the  Khan',  bom..    Surely  I  ha< 

become  a  blood  brother  to  the  cutthroat  Marri. 

That  wa.  what  the  guide  laid-also  wa.  I  „£, 

«nthe.,ghtofAIl,h,heaMuredme. 

"  Zr^l  TJ?.'^.  '"  December.  N.war  Khan, 

lootn        ./""''•"  ^"  «""«•    H«  had  been 
looted,  or  had  tumbled  over  a  cliff.    The  trib] 

had  searched  at  the  bottom  of  every  prlc"i„ 
without  result.     That  he  hoA  k  P'*<^'P'« 

as  d!fflr..u    (\  f  ?  ""*'  ''""  "o'e"  was 

one  L!;  "i  '"'  "  '•"  ""=""«"»  "-at  some 
one  had  made  away  with  Buddha's  tooth  from 
the  temple  at  Kandy. 

And"„'  ^r"  ^'""'  '""  «°"'  °^  «  certainty. 
battleHnd  r  ""  °"'^  ^'•'  """'"^  °' ''«  -"X 

5:icv::;t?eid'r''°''"-^'"-^"'°-h' 

saw  was  a  ram,  joyous  m  much  fat.  taking  a 

In7l w'" T^^''':^''"'^  '"  ^™"' °" '■•» 

the  middle  on  the  south  side,  and  if  the  soldier 

had  been  bnttle  he  would  have  broken  in  two 

As  It  was,  he  covered  much  territory  before 

The  orderly  was  vexed  at  the  importunate 

326 


NAWAZ   KHAN,   GIFT  OF   ALLAH 

attention  from  the  hard-headed  ram.  He  picked 
himself  up  with  Sikh  dignity  and  reached  for 
hii  gun,  which  stood  with  three  inches  of  iu  iron 
muzzle  buried  in  the  soft  earth. 

Now  a  ram,  when  he  tries  for  a  knock-out 
blow  and  fails,  usually  backs  up  and  plays  a 
little  harder  next  time;  but  the  orderly's  assail- 
ant  seemed  to  think  he  had  carried  the  joke  far 
enough,  wisely,  perhaps,  and  walked  sedately 
over  to  the  colonel's  dogcart  and  started  peel- 
ing the  yellow  paint  from  the  spokes. 

Something  about  the  cut  of  this  pugnacious 
sheep  appeared  familiar  to  me.  I  maneuvered 
up  to  him  strategically,  keeping  my  line  of  re- 
treat  well  open.  A  critical  reconnoissance  con- 
vinced  me  that  it  was  the  fighting  ram  of  my 
freebootmg  friend  who  lived  in  the  foothills  of 
the  Sulimans;  there  were  the  silver  knobs  of 
which  I  was  the  donor. 

Great  Scott  I  what  was  he  doing  here  at  the 
colonel's  tent?  The  whole  Marris  country 
would  be  in  a  blaze  if  they  knew  of  it. 

But  they  had  looted  me;  therefore  let  them 
look  to  Allah  for  the  return  of  their  tribe's  glory. 

I  asked  Tenier,  who  was  a  lieutenant  in  the 
regiment,  where  they  had  pakaraod  the  sheep. 
"  Such  a  larkl  "  he  answered.    "  You  know 
227 


!}.f  1 
■  1 


THIRTEEN    MEN 
the  colonel  is  a  queer  fish;  studies  his  book  on 

GooT"  ™.  ^u^-^-  '■"  ''"  P-'''^'  »"  the  le 
Good  enough  chap,  you  know,  the  old  fellow 
".  wouldn  t  know  enough  to  step  inside  if  it  we« 
ra.n.ng  bujets,  and  nothing  to  be  gained  by  get! 
^"g  shot;  but  all  the  same,  he's  lik!  one  of 'those 
greaseless  country  carts  with  his  squeaky  yZ 
-Puj.  the  fellows  all  on  edge,  you'know' 

We  don  t  mind  fighting-like  it,  of  course- 
but,  hang  it  all!  when  there's  no  figkting  to  be' 

Sheep  and  goats,  and  no  raiding  on,  why  we 
want  a  bit  of  fun,  or  else  we'll  go  flabby    ' 
"Now    'Old    Squeaks '-that',    what    the 

«t'oft     '^'"^'  '""-P°'°-  -'J  >"  tt 
about  A  'r  ^r~^  ^"  ''''«^=^'  he  talks 

;otrffh:t°st^''°^'"'^--^'-<^--y- 

chemot  '^'"''V'*"'.'  ""''  l>"»«d  myself  with  his 
dieroot  case,  hunting  for  a  decent  Trichi-  I 
knew  there  was  something  needing  a  lot  of  «- 
pl^ng  away,  and  that  my  young  friend  was 
leadmg  up  to  .t  diplomatically  enough.  So  I 
waited,  and  smoked  patiently  as  he  Ltled  on 
with  his  picturesque  narrative. 

"  Well,  it  seemed  hopeless  enough;  we  sat  in 
the  rottenest  sort  of  luck.     Thefe  was  ^Z 

228 


NAWAZ    KHAN,    GIFT  OF   ALLAH 

fighting  up  Chitral  way  with  Shir  Afzul,  Umra 
Khan,  and  that  lot,  but  wc  never  got  the  route. 
The  camp  was  simply  dying  of  stagnation.  If 
cholera  had  come  down  from  the  Bolan,  as  it 
did  last  year,  it  would  have  played  merry  hades 
with  us — we  were  that  stalled  for  want  of  fight- 
ing, or  something. 

"  There  were  always  five  or  six  of  our  fellows 
in  hospital,  and  not  a  iiroken  bone  or  a  '  cop- 
cussion'  in  the  whole  tally  lot— nothing  but 
flabby  heart.  That  was  what  was  bowling  them 
over— thinking.  Good  God!  we  didn't  come 
out  here  to  think,  did  we,  Braem  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  not,"  I  replied,  with  an  em- 
phatic  laugh. 

Tenier  looked  at  me  quizzically.  "  Don't  be 
a  sarcastic  goat,"  he  said  testily.  "  We  can 
think  right  enough  when  it's  needed;  but  fight- 
ing or  polo  or  racing's  the  thing  to  keep  a  man 
fit.  Good  Heavens !  the  surgeon  actually  hinted 
that  some  of  the  fellows  were  malingering.  It 
would  have  ended  in  mutiny  right  enough;  but 

just  then  we  got  hold  of  Yusuf " 

Before  my  friend  had  time  to  finish  the  sen- 
tence, there  was  a  rushing  noise  like  the  cutting 
loose  of  a  junior  cyclone,  and  over  we  went,  tent 
and  all.  Lord !  but  it  was  a  mix  up.  The  cot,  a 
stool,  a  suit  case,  young  Teniers  with  a  sword 
229 


;!;■' 


THi.-.EEN   MEN 

J  S'  J™  V'  ''°^'  "  "^"8  »v.r  m.- 
"  If»  *«  damn  nm  F  w       *    '?"'  '"^"» 

i..d  rcphcbrf  ,he  „  ™r«l  St      "'*"• 
"Does  he  do  that  often?  "I  asked 

Tommy  curled  up  on  a  chamoy  "sTeeo     1 
t.mes  he  bunts  the  water  baS  "er'loo    ^Td 
once  he  tipped  the  old  man  up  backLI'.     ^' 

--thing  that  seemed  a  haJ^Xti^X^S 
230 


NAWAZ   KHAN,    GIFT  OF   ALLAH 

was  heels  on,  and  didn't  see  him  coming.  We 
hid  the  ram  for  two  days— the  colonel  would 
nave  shot  him." 

"  Who  owns  him— did  one  of  the  men  chor 
(steal)  him?  "  I  asked  cautiously,  for  the  Khan's 
deeds  made  my  friend  a  bit  irrelevant  to  the 
point  at  issue. 

"  No;  got  him  from  Yusuf— you  know  Yusuf 
Khan,  the  camel  man  ?  " 

I  assented.    I  rememberea  him  well.    Once 
upon  a  time  he  had  sold  me  a  mad  Bokharan 
as  a  ridmg  camel,  and  the  blatant  thing  had  run 
away  with  me  for  twenty  miles.    At  the  end  I 
was  seasick,  and  for  a  week  had  amateur  rheu- 
matism.   "  Yes,  I  remember  him,"  I  said  remi- 
niscently;  "  he's  a  bad  lot  even  for  a  Pathan." 
"  Well,  Yusuf  wanted  the  contract  for  sup- 
plying transport  camels,  and  came  to  me  about 
It.    Wanted  to  know  what  backsheesh  he  could 
give  the  colonel  to  win  his  heart.    Did  you  ever 
hear  of  such  a  thing?    Fancy  his  trying  to  work 
Squeaks  that  way!     They  do  it  among  them- 
selves, you  know;  everybody's  got  to  have  his 
dustoor,  so  he  thought  it  was  only  a  question  of 
tindmg  out  what  the  colonel's  fancy  ran  to. 

"  Lutyens,  who  came  up  with  the  regiment, 
was  with  me,  and  we  pulled  old  Yusuf's  leg  no 
end  of  a  time,  quizzing  him  as  to  what  he  had  to 
231 


l^if- 


1 


[I 


3i     :■': 


THIRTEEN    MEN 


give  the  colonel.    At  last  he  mentioned  that  he 
Cabul  "'"'  *''"  ^"'  ^'^""  ^^'  '""^ 

.  "By  Jove!  you  should  have  seen  Lutyens 
jump  at  that.  He  swore  the  colonel  was  just 
dying  to  have  a  fighting  ram ;  that  he  was  a  great 
sportsman,  and  simply  reveled  in  that  sort  of 
thmg-hvedonit.  I  must  say  that  I  backed  the 
major  up — I  had  to." 

J'i7°''?.^\  ^"^*'"«  y°"  ^""t-'  Lutyens 
told  Yusuf ;    only  bring  the  ram  in.' 

Fancy  Squeaks  fighting  rams— it's  unholy  I 

His  aunt,  or  somebody,  wouldn't  like  it 

"  We  put  the  other  fellows  on  to  the  '  good 

thing,   and  in  the  end  Yusuf  was  coached  prop- 

erly.    Also  we  worked  the  colonel-stuffed  him 

h!ir"xl^?n  '"  '  ''"""'  °'  '^  ''™»»'  «P  in  the 
lulls.  The  fellows  came  out  o'  hospital  to  play 
tne  new  game  that  was  on. 

"The  colonel,  you  know,  had  been  down  in 
Burma  or  China  or  some  other  heatlien  country 
with  his  regiment,  and  when  they  were  sent  up 
here  to  relieve  the  Tenth,  neither  he  nor  any  of 
the  others  knew  a  word  of  this  Pathan  baht- 
Pushtu  IS  like  dummy  talk  to  them.  Of  course 
he  had  passed  in  the  thing  at  home,  the  lingo 
we  all  went  through-Urdu,  they  call  it,  I  think; 
but  here  it  seems  to  be  pushtu,  sheep  talk  and 
232 


NAWAZ    KHAN,    GIFT  OF   ALLAH 

Persian  mixed.  When  Squeaks  thinks  he's  tell- 
ing  them  to  dear  out,  they  come  and  sit  in  his 
lap. 

"  We  squ:  red  his  krani  (clerk) .  He's  a  Ben- 
gali  baboo,  and  is  afraid  of  everything  but  ru- 
pees and  ghee.  Lutyens  frightened  him  to  death 
—swore  he'd  ride  Shahzada  over  him  by  acci- 
dent if  he  didn't  make  proper  talk  when  Yusuf 
brought  in  the  lambkin. 

"  One  day  Yusuf  and  three  other  brawny  Af- 
ghans turned  up  with  the  dirt  of  twoscore  years 
thick  upon  the  lot  of  them.  Cracky!  but  they 
were  fierce-looking;  jezails,  jade-handled  knives 
the  length  of  your  arm,  and  all  the  rest  of  their 
cutthroat  tools.  With  them  came  the  ram,  of 
course.  He  was  short-clipped  and  gorgeous  in 
many  colors,  painted  up  for  the  occasion." 

'"Diplomacy  is  the  racket,'  said  Lutyens, 
'  play  Squeaks  on  that' 

"  You  see  the  colonel  has  a  hobby  that  if  we 
can  humor  these  natives  we  shan't  have  to  fight 
them.  It'll  be  a  beastly  hole  to  live  in  if  that 
ever  comes  about;  we'd  soon  die  o«F  if  there  was 
no  fighting  to  be  had. 

"  The  old  man  had  a  regular  durbar;  for  the 
baboo  explained  that  Yusuf  was  one  of  the  Khan 
of  Kelat's  small  chiefs,  and  that  he  wanted  to 
make  friendship  with  the  English  for  his  tribe. 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


11     ■' 


i:  . 
Ill  illii 


H«  people  ,ivcd.on,cwherc  up  in  the  Bolans 

"They  ate  salt  together  and  touched  palms 
with  a  rupee  and  things  went  on  swimming^;  "" 
Yusuf  couldn't  understand  a  word  the  coIo- 
nel  sa.d  and  the  Afghan  baht  was  aHGreet 
to  Squeaks.  Lutyens  had  his  eye  on  the  K  "nT 
who  was  interpreting  after  a  fashion-youS 

wror:e7v:;/'''"^^'~^^^p^-^- 

"The  game  was  that  Yusuf  had  brought  in 
the  ram  as  a  peace  offering;  it  was  the  thiL  h^ 
P  ople  pnzed  most  on  earth-a  sort  of  sacred 

;;  It  was  all  Lutyens's  doings,  I  swear." 

At  first   when  the  colonel  understood  that 
he  was  t,  ,,,^        ^^^_  ^^  ^^^^^^  ^^         th  t 

He  hates  everything  but  a  cavalry  horse    vou 
b.ow;   and   only  likes   them    belse   tly':: 

"The  funny  part  of  the  business  was,  that 
Yusuf  really  got  the  contract  for  the  camels  no 
on  account  of  the  sheep,  but  because  thHlnd 
^hought  .t  a  good  thing  to  win  over  this  head 

"  ^''"''»  ^°^  ^«=  got  the  ram,"  said  Tenicrs 
234 


NAWAZ   KHAN,   GIFT  OF  ALLAH 

"He  simply  won't  leave  the  colonel— hangs 
around  his  tent  all  the  time  bunting  the  orderly. 
One  day  he  chewed  the  tops  off  Squeaks's  new 
boots.  He's  really  kept  us  alive.  And  what's 
odd,  the  colonel's  got  fond  of  him— we  all  know 
that;  he  never  bunted  the  old  man  once,  only  the 
time  he  upset  him  by  mistake.  He  just  does  as 
he  likes  in  the  regiment;  they  look  upon  him  as 
a  mascot. 

"  He's  a  proper  budmash,  but  what  can  you 
expect  from  a  ram  tha^'  jeen  brought  up  among 
these  sons  of  Belial  when  he  gets  into  decent 
society? 

"  The  sergeant's  mess  clubbed  in  and  put  that 
silver  ring  on  his  horn.  They're  a  scum  lot— 
they  looted  all  the  refreshment  rooms  coming  up 
from  Karachi,  but  they'd  fight  for  the  lamb  until 
they  were  wiped  out,  I  believe.  That's  because 
he's  so  properly  bad;  they  like  it." 

I  said  never  a  word  about  the  original  owners 
of  the  ram— it  would  be  a  pity  to  spoil  sport. 
If  Yusuf  had  looted  him  from  the  Marris  he 
deserved  that  camel  contract.  I  even  forgave 
him  my  ride  on  the  mad  Bokaran. 

Then  wa  had  a  week  of  proper  Sibi  dullness; 
nothing  happened,  absolutely  nothing— only  the 
heat;  it  was  terrific. 

The  Beluchis  in  the  plain  about  Sibi  went  out 
w  23s 


^■,1 


:; 


■I    ' 


h 


m 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

and  tiUcd  their  fields  and  tended  their  floclu  and 
never  a  hiUman  swooped  down  on  them.     It 
looked  a,  though  die  little  round  towers  of 
defense  dotted  all  over  the  plain   like  huge 
Chun,,  jnight  a,  well  be  leveled  to  the  ground. 
Ihe  fellows  squabbled  among  themselves,  and 
prayed    for    strong-hearted    infidels    to    come 
down  and  fight  diem.     It  was  the  heat-it 
took  the  life   out  of  everything.     Even  the 
Khan  lay  as|eep  most  of  the  time-he  was 
gettmg  fat. 

All  week  the  colonel  had  labored  with  official 
zeal  over  a  letter  to  die  Civil  and  Military  Go- 
2*//*  on  the  necessity  for  higher  diplomatic 
knowledge  among  military  officers  in  command 
in  border  districts.  He  made  a  strong  point  of 
the  assertion  diat  "diplomacy  was  the  higher 
form  of  applied  patience."  He  always  wrote 
with  a  tight  grip  on  the  pen,  and  his  mouth 
twisted  to  one  side.  That's  a  proper  military 
man  s  attitude— it's  like  sword  play. 

Incidentally  the  ram  mixed  up  widi  the  colo- 
nels  epic.  Tuesday,  while  he  was  sweating 
over  an  mtricatc  paragraph  that  wouldn't  go 
nght  anyhow,  the  Khan  stalked  Lutyens's  fox 
temer,  and  shikarried  him  into  die  colonel's 
tent.  The  table  was  upset,  and  three  pages  of 
the  manuscript  floated  in  ink.  The  profanity 
336 


m\ 


NAWAZ   KHAN.   GIFT  OF  ALLAH 

was  awful.    It  frightened  even  the  Khan,  and 
he  didn't  show  up  for  a  day. 

When  the  old  man  finished  the  article  Thurs- 
day,  he  had  writer's  cramp  and  a  stiff  neck. 
Friday  the  ram  nibbled  the  letter  out  of  his  tunic 
pocket  as  it  lay  on  a  chair,  and  ate  it.  The  or- 
derly  saw  him  just  finishing  the  "  Yours  truly. 
Diplomat."  ' 

i^ow  patience  was  a  good  thing  to  write  about 
in  an  article  on  diplomacy,  but  when  it  came  to 
having  a  week's  work  chewed  up  by  a  bilious 
ram,  it  was  a  little  too  much  for  human  nature, 
and  the  colonel's  language  was  terrific;  also  he 
battered  the  Khan. 

All  Saturday  we  laughed  over  this,  for  it 
leaked  out.    That  night  Nawaz  Khan  chewied 
a  bowl  of  lettuce  that  was  on  Major  Lutyens's 
dinner  table;  and  the  four  of  us  who  were  to 
have  dined  widi  him  had  to  go  and  borrow  a 
scrap  meal  from  different  sections  of  the  camp. 
It  cost  Lutyens  twenty-five  rupees  for  new  dishes, 
to  say  nothing  of  two  wasted  bottles  of  Simpkin 
opened  on  the  ram's  horns. 
_    Monday,  joy  reigned  in  the  regiment.    The 
route  "  was  out  for  a  detachment  of  two  com- 
panies.   Where  they  were  going  nobody  knew 
only  the  colonel.    Something  was  on  up  in  the 
hills;  It  couldn't  be  a  scrap  widi  only  two  com- 
237 


I  ■ 


^J 


'  ,!  I  i 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

paniei  going,  it  muit  be  political.  However,  it 
wa»  a  move,  and  Lutyens  and  Tenieii,  who  were 
going,  were  full  of  die  thing. 

By  daylight  Tuesday  morning  die  men  were 
on  the  march;  and  by  noon  the  broad,  flat  sur- 
face of  the  Sibi  Put  (desert)  had  swallowed 
them  up;  diere  was  only  a  glinting  mirage  where 
they  had  gone  off  toward  the  northeast.  They 
were  heading  straight  for  the  Marris  hills. 

A  feeling  of  misgiving  came  over  me  when  I 
realized  diat  diey  were  going  toward  the  Marris 
Pass,  for  the  ram  had  gone  with  diem. 

At  sunrise  Thursday,  bright  glinting  flashes 
struck  our  camp,  thrown  from  the  hills  to  the 
east.  It  was  a  heliograph  signal.  It  read: 
"  Surrounded  by  tribesmen  fifteen  miles  up  the 
Pass.    Hard  pressed.    Send  reenforcements." 

An  answer  was  flashed  back  that  we'd  leave 
immediately,  and  soon  die  balance  of  the  regi- 
ment was  streaming  across  the  Put,  with  two 
seven-pounders  and  a  Catling. 

This  is  what  had  happened  in  the  mean  time : 
After  they  had  gone  about  five  miles,  the 
colonel  suddenly  discovered  that  Nawaz  Khan 
was  complacently  marching  widi  the  transport. 
The  old  man  swore  like  a  trooper.  "  Curse  the 
brute,"  he  exclaimed,  "  am  I  never  going  to  get 
238 


NAWAZ   KHAN,   GIFT  OF  ALLAH 

•way  from  that  ram?"  But  the  fellows  fan- 
cied  he  was  really  pleased  that  the  Khan  had 
•tuck  to  them.  It  was  too  late  to  turn  him 
back,  so  Nawaz  and  the  orderly  plodded  alonff 
together.  " 

When  they  got  among  the  hills,  the  natives 
came  mto  the  camp  friendly  enough.  At  first 
there  were  a  few  of  them.  They  talked  to  the 
colonel  through  the  krani,  and  though  the  latter 
was  a  little  mixed  on  their  baht,  he  understood 
just  enough  to  exchange  the  courtesies. 

But  the  minute  they  got  their  eye  on  the  ram, 
things  changed.  They  soon  slipped  awfy,  but 
our  fellows  didn't  know  that  it  had  anything  to 
do  with  the  Khan;  they  didn't  know  he  had  been 
looted  from  the  Marris. 

At  the  next  halt,  farther  up  in  the  hills,  quite 
a  arge  body  of  tribesmen  came  in  and  had  a 
palaver.  Our  '  ows  had  seen  them  hovering 
about  on  the  l...e  of  march.  The  baboo 
couldn  t  explain  four  annas  of  what  they  said- 
but  It  was  easy  to  see  they  were  demanding  the 
ram.  * 

Then  the  old  man's  liking  for  the  beast 
cropped  up.  "  It  was  infernal  cheek,"  he  called 
It.  'The  ram  was  the  regiment's  mascot— it 
would  be  like  giving  up  the  colors.  Never  I  he'd 
fight  them  first.  If  it  were  a  sort  of  toU  they 
239 


i\ 


■1/ . 


}       4 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

were  levying,  he'd  pay  «miething  for  the  uke 
of  peace,  rather  than  have  a  tamasha." 

I  IS'  u^t?'^  *•"'  ''"'^ '°  «'"« ^l^e  chief.  Afzul 
ul  Mulk,  fifty  rupeei.  The  latter  tucked  the  bair 
of  Jilver  m  hi.  belt,  and  lat  on  hi.  haunche.  .ul- 
leniy. 

*'  What  i.  he  waiting  for?  "  adced  the  colonel. 

He  want,  the  ram,  lir." 
Thi.  brought  the  colonel  to  the  end  of  his 
diplomatic  tether-hi.  choler  got  up,  and  he 
ordered  the  Marri.  to  clear  out.    They  went, 
and  the  troops  lost  sight  of  them. 

Toward  noon,  as  the  detachment  marched 
along  the  track  which  led  over  a  dry  water 
course  up  to  a  narrow  slit  in  the  hills,  they  were 
suddenly  fired  upon  from  in  front.  The  hills  on 
either  side  of  the  Pass  were  thronged  with  white- 
turbaned  tribesmen,  who  were  sniping  at  the 
troops  with  long  rifles. 

The  colonel's  men  returned  the  fire,  but  most 
of  the  bullets  only  spatted  against  the  rock  cover 
the  hillmen  crouched  behind.  "  Phut  I  phut  I  " 
went  the  guns  on  the  hillside;  "p-ing-g!  spit! 
spat  I  came  the  leaden  pills  from  every  side, 
for  the  Pathans  were  closing  up  i„  the  rear  also. 
1  he  men  were  in  a  trap. 

"We've  got  to  get  out  of  this,  and  make  a 
stand  on  higher  ground,  sir,"  said  Lutyens. 
240 


NAWAZ   KHAN.   GIFT  OF  ALLAH 

Then  the  men  charged  up  one  tide  of  »he  val- 
ley,  and  drove  the  Marrit  from  the  tcp  ,.)  .  hill 
at  the  point  of  the  bayonet.  It  wat  hot  work. 
Lutyent  got  a  bullet  in  hit  arm,  and  half  a  dozen 
men  dropped  in  the  valley.  There  was  no  time 
to  get  them;  they  lay  there  under  the  cross  fire, 
as  well  as  eight  or  ten  of  the  Pathans. 

It  looked  like  bad  business,  and  the  hills  all 
around  simply  swarmed  with  tribesmen  who 
kept  up  a  dropping  fire.  It  didn't  do  much 
harm,  the  range  was  too  great;  but  the  troops 
were  surrounded,  and  it  would  be  hot  work  get- 
ting out.  The  Marris  saw  they  had  our  fellows 
trapped,  and  played  a  waiting  game.  There 
were  hundreds  of  them;  the  hills  were  alive. 
Tenier  and  Sergeant  Flynn  volunteered  to  slip 
through  the  enemy  that  night  and  bring  up  re- 
enforcements. 

They  took  a  heliograph  with  them,  because 
they  could  signal  from  the  foothills  in  the  morn- 
ing, saving  a  twenty-mile  tramp,  and  get  word 
to  the  regiment  quicker.  They  stole  out  in  the 
darkness,  and  the  men  waited,  not  knowing 
whether  they  got  through  or  not. 

All  night  the  tribesmen  kept  up  a  spitting  fire 
—just  enough  to  make  rest  impossible.    That 
was   their   game— to    keep    the    small    troop 
hemmed  in,  and  worry  them  to  death. 
241 


H 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

Our  fcUows  knew  what  it  meant-water. 
The  lull  was  like  an  ash  heap-as  dry.    The 

four  hours;  another  twenty-four  and  they  would 

detachment  would  have  to  fight  its  vay  out  I 
would  be  at  terrible  cost-probably  not  a  man 
would  get  through  alive.  They  hadn't  a  S3 
gun  with  them-nothing  but  their  rifles;  so  they 
couldn't  shell  the  enemy  from  their  path.  Thil 
was  a  senou,  mistake;  but  the  colonel  had  evi- 

S  T^  °"'  °"  '  P°"''"'  ""i^ion,  ani 
con«dered  guns  an  impediment  to  rapid  travel. 
So  they  p      ^d  h       ^^^^  ^^^.^^  ^^  ^^P 

might  get  through.  * 

heU'Z^'FTi'^'  ""'^"  '°  ""^h  them  just 
before  dayhght,  but  there  was  no  attack-^oth- 

let!  .n  t  ""t"'"*  ^"'  '^'  '^"''"'"8  i"  of  bul- 
lets, to  keep  them  on  edge. 

forlil'  T""^"^  ""^  ^''^  '"y  ^"^'"^  the  two 
forces    Once  c-  men  tried  to  slip  down  to  bring 

mthe.r  wounded,  but  were  driven  back;  Jcf 

the  tribesmen  crept  down,  but  were  repulsed 

w.^a  stiff  .olley-their  mission  was  Lat- 

242 


NAWAZ   KHAN,    GIFT  OF   ALLAH 

In  the  morning  it  was  seen  that  the  Marris 
had  been  at  work  during  the  night  Two  stone 
sangas  had  been  thrown  up  within  fair  range  of 
our  men;  but  Lutyens  had  also  constructed  a 
barricade,  so  honors  were  even. 

About  nine  o'clock  half  a  dozen  Marris  came 
down  with  a  white  flag— they  wanted  to  pick  up 
the  wounded.  Our  fellows  were  glad  of  the 
chance  of  a  truce,  and  the  poor  chaps  who  had 
lain  out  all  night  were  brought  in. 

While  this  was  going  on,  another  party  of 
cignt  or  ten  came  in  with  a  white  flag  also;  and 
with  them  was  a  gigantic  ram,  close-clipped,  and 
with  all  the  glory  of  war  paint  on  his  strong- 
ribbed  sides  and  muscular  quarters.  The  baboo 
unearthed  from  their  muddy  vocabulary  that 
they  wanted  to  fight  the  Khan. 

"  They're  a  rum  lot,"  said  Lutyens,  with  his 
arm  m  a  sling;  "  while  they've  got  us  hemmed  in 
here,  and  hope  to  starve  us  out,  they  want  to  put 
in  the  time  pleasantly  by  holding  sports.  But  it 
will  delay  matters,  anyway,  and  give  Tenier  a 
chance.  If  he'd  been  captured,  we'd  have 
heard  about  it,  I  think— he  must  have  got 
through. 

"  We'll  fight  them  with  the  ram,  won't  we, 
sir?  "  hz  said  to  the  colonel.    "  It'll  keep  things 
back.    We'll  mark  time  as  long  as  we  can— I'll 
243 


i 


■II 


1 1 


rl'    Hi 


I,  i! 
'■'■  ill 

I 

i1:f' 

lis 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

swear  the  ram  has  just  been  fed,  and  hold  the 
fight  off  for  a  couple  of  hours,  till  he's  in  good 
condition.  He's  too  fat  to  fight,  anyway — the 
other  fellow'U  do  him  up;  their  brute's  as  fit  as 
a  fiddle." 

So,  with  the  aid  of  the  baboo,  the  thing  was 
explained,  in  a  fashion,  and  the  fight  held  off 
until  after  dinner;  the  visitors,  who  were  prob- 
ably selecting  the  individual  throats  they  meant 
to  slit  when  tliey  had  persuaded  our  men  to  sur- 
render their  rifles  later  on,  were  fed  with  pro- 
fuse hospitality. 

It  was  a  fine  diplomatic  play  all  round. 
Afzul  Mulk  reasoned  that  they  were  helping  to 
eat  up  the  provisions  the  troops  had  to  subsist 
upon,  therefore  they  would  be  starved  into  sur- 
render the  sooner.  The  colonel  and  his  officers 
hoped  that  Tenier  had  escaped,  and  if  they  could 
delay  matters  with  the  aid  of  the  ram  long 
enough,  the  relieving  force  would  pop  in  on  the 
flank  of  the  enemy  with  a  machine  gun  or  two, 
and  save  the  situat'on. 

The  hillmen  weie  receiving  reenforcements 
all  the  time.  They  were  a  fine  lot  of  black- 
guards, these  Marris;  they  ate  cheerily  with  our 
fellows,  and  viewed  critically  the  commissariat 
they  hoped  to  be  placed  in  command  of  by  the 
help  of  Allah  and  much  thirst. 
444 


If: 


NAWAZ    KHAN,    GIFT  OF   ALLAH 


Lutyens,  who  had  taken  charge  of  the  fighting 
arrangements,  delayed  bringing  out  the  Khan  as 
long  as  he  dared.  At  last,  about  two  o'clock, 
he  concluded  he  had  reached  the  limit ;  the  visit- 
ors were  muttering  impatiently. 

A  sharp  lookout  was  kept  to  prevent  a  sur- 
prise, and  the  tamasha  started.  The  Khan  was 
full  of  it.  Fighting  in  the  camp  at  Sibi  had  been 
stupid  play;  nothing  fought  back — here  was  the 
sport  of  his  lambhood.  The  Marris  ram  was 
keen  as  a  fox  terrier,  too. 

When  they  came  together  in  the  first  round 
it  was  like  the  bursting  of  a  shrapnel ;  but  it  was 
only  a  feeler  evidently.  They  backed  off  a  little 
farther  next  time,  and  with  short,  jerky  pig 
jumps  banged  into  each  other.  The  flint  horns 
cracked  sharp  and  dear  in  the  still  mountain 
air. 

As  the  sound  went  echoing  up  the  canons  of 
the  hills  the  tribesmen  cheered  with  joy — it  was 
a  fight  after  their  own  hearts.  The  whole  camp 
warmed  to  the  fun;  the  colonel  was  the  most 
excited  man  in  the  detachment. 

Lutyens  was  new  to  the  game,  and  didn't  han- 
dle his  ram  right.  One  of  the  tribesmen,  who 
had  been  watching  the  Khan  with  loving  eye, 
jumped  up  and  begged,  with  much  pantomime, 
to  be  given  charge  of  the  detachment  ram. 
245 


ti'A 


THIRTEEN    MEN 


I 


I" 


^^  "Let  him  handle  him  I  "  cried  the  colonel; 

th^r  ^°' '°  ^'"'  °'  ""'y'"  *»•''  '»  "  »n  omen 
that  they  re  going  to  beat  us." 

The  Pathan  almost  cried  for  joy  when  he  put 
h.s  strong  fingers  in  the  Khan's  whiskers.  He 
laid  h.s  swarthy  face  against  the  ram's  Roman 

Shah,  the  Khan's  r.ghtful  owner;  but  our  chap, 
didnt  know  that.  They  backed  the  rams 
among  themselves.  Afzul,  the  head  man  of 
the  Marns  drew  forth  the  colonel's  fifty  rupees 
he  had  tucked  in  his  belt,  and  gave  Squeaks  to 
understand  he  wanted  to  gamble  on  the  fight. 
Jove !  ,f  the  colonel  didn't  take  him  up  I  Nobody 

ir'l^^'l  *""'"  ""''"= ""  ^'' '"  ^^^  life  before. 

1  he  Khan  s  new  handler  played  fair— played 
to  wm.  Lutyens  watched  him  close;  but  he 
didn  t  need  that.  He  was  a  proper  sportsman 
-they  re  all  that.  He  gave  the  Khan  a  chance 
to  get  h.s  wmd;  delayed  each  round  as  long 
as  he  could.  That  was  what  our  fellows 
wanted. 

The  Khan  was  a  bit  the  stronger,  and  at  first 
got  a  lead  over  the  other  chap;  but  the  hawk 
eyes  of  the  natives  had  sized  up  the  situation 
pretty  well.  They  knew  that  our  ram  was  fat, 
mside  and  out,  and  would  tire  after  a  bit.  Their 
ram  was  as  hard  as  nails;  everything  in  their 
246 


NAWAZ    KHAN,    GIFT   OF   ALLAH 

country  is,  men  and  all.  He  was  like  a  fighting 
boar— gaunt  and  rough;  all  muscle  and  pluck, 
with  horns  of  steel. 

The  Khan's  charge  became  perceptibly  less 
fierce;  he  wavered  a  little  as  they  came  together 
like  rocks  in  an  avalanche.  His  hind  quarters 
drooped  after  each  crash. 

"  This  comes  of  you  juniors  always  stuffing 
the  beast  with  sugar  or  some  cursed  thing !  " 
squeaked  the  colonel.  "  You've  spoiled  one  of 
the  best  fights  ever  was." 

What  with  preliminaries,  and  rests  between 
rounds,  and  hard  fighting,  the  battle  lasted  over 
an  hour,  when  finally  the  Khan  was  smashed  to 
the  earth  by  a  glancing  blow  that  slipped  from 
his  horns  and  tore  along  his  thick  neck.  He'd 
had  enough— he  knew  that.  Not  for  his  old 
master  even,  not  for  anything,  would  he  face  the 
music  again.    The  tribesmen  had  won. 

The  visitors  sprang  to  their  feet  and  cheered 
the  wild  battle  cry  of  the  Pathan.  Up,  up  the 
hills  it  went,  caught  up  and  echoed  from  throat 
to  throat— hundreds  of  them— until  the  whole 
range  rang  with  the  paean  of  victory.  It  was 
impressive.  Our  men  were  awed.  It  was  like 
a  foreboding  of  disaster. 

The  colonel  quietly  handed  over  the  rupees  to 
Afzul.    The  Marris  squatted  on  their  haunches 
247 


K 


1^ 


'■!»■ 


\i\i 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

again;  and  Lutyens,  to  show  that  there  was  no 
ill  will,  ordered  hot  coffee  served  to  them. 

Rahat  Shah,  who  had  handled  the  Khan,  got 
him  on  his  feet,  and  started  to  lead  him  over  to 
the  little  group  of  squatted  tribesmen. 

The  colonel  interfered.  "  Take  the  ram  away 
from  that  chap,"  he  ordered.  "  I  believe  they're 
trying  to  walk  him  off." 

The  orderly  took  the  Khan  from  the  Marris 
and  put  him  over  with  our  men.  Rahat  Shah 
was  astonished— indignant.  He  hustled  the  or- 
derly a  little,  and  there  was  a  bit  of  a  scuffle  at 
first;  but  the  ram  was  taken  away  from  the  per- 
sistent tribesmen. 

The  sitting  Marris  muttered  among  them- 
selves, and  commenced  to  move  about  restlessly. 
Afzul  was  energetically  trying  to  explain  some- 
thing to  the  baboo. 

"What's  the  matter?"  asked  the  colonel. 
"What  does  he  say?" 

"  Not  understanding  his  talk,  sir,"  replied  the 
baboo.  "  His  talkjiot  of  my  country,  therefore 
not  understanding  proper.  He  wanting  the 
sheep,  sir,  I  think." 

"That's  rich,"  retorted  the  colonel;  "dash 

his  eyes  I  I  suppose  they  think  because  the  ram's 

beaten  we  won't  keep  him.    Tell  them,  if  you 

can,  with  my  salams,  that  if  they  want  him  real 

248 


m 


NAWAZ    KHAN,    GIFT  OF   ALLAH 

bad,  they  can  come  and  take  him  in  their  usual 
zabardasti  way— there'll  be  a  few  dead  Mussul- 
mans before  they  get  him,  though.  But  don't 
hurry  it,  baboo — keep  them  as  long  as  you  can. 
I'd  like  to  hear  the  music  of  a  Catling  on  their 
flank  over  there." 

Now,  the  baboo  loved  to  talk— all  baboos  do; 
but  the  Marris  didn't  want  talk;  it  was  the  ram 
they  were  after.  Besides,  they  hated  a  baboo 
worse  than  they  did  the  cursed  Feringees,  the 
British. 

When  they  saw  they  were  getting  more  baboo 
talk  than  ram,  they  exchanged  a  few  fierce,  hot 
words  among  themselves,  standing  defiantly 
erect,  then  turned  away,  anger  flipping  from 
every  fold  of  their  loose  dress,  and  marched  sul- 
lenly down  the  hill,  across  the  valley,  and  up 
where  crouched  their  fellows. 

"Gad!  they're  mad,"  said  the  colonel. 
"Wonder  what  it's  all  about?  We'll  get  pepper 
now;  get  ready  for  them,  major." 

Below,  the  valley  was  silent.  The  dead  had 
been  turned  under  the  rubble  of  earth  and  broken 
stone,  and  the  wounded  brought  into  the  lines. 
The  sun  was  almost  dipping  behind  the  peaks 
in  the  west. 

With  set  faces  the  men  waited  for  the  blood- 
thirsty rush  that  would  come  surely:  either  that, 
249 


THIRTEEN  MEN 

or  the  hi,,  of  a  ,hrap„el  coming  up  the  valley 

from  the  relief.    Which  would  come  first?    It 

Slped"        *'  ""forcement,,  if  Tenier  had 

They  could  ,ce  the  tribesmen  creeping  closer 

dSlStrr""^^"^^"^"^"^^^' 
..  p.^".''^*'  yy  fi«."  Mid  the  colonel  sternly. 

We  U  make  as  good  a  fight  a,  the  ram  did.  any- 

"By  Jovel'theyVe  mad  clean  through,"  said 
Lutyens,  as  he  watched  the  Pathans  through  his 
field  glass;  "  they  won't  even  wait  for  the  dark- 

ouff,  „?'''  Kr-T'P'"«  "K"''"'"  "  li«le  white 

"ts.inl^'^     /k"  "■^™**^  '"°"''"8'  »"d  *« 
P-s-mg-g      of  the  smging  lead  struck  on  his 

Then  he  swept  the  valley  to  the  south  with 
a  powerful  glaM.  Nothing  moved  in  that 
direction  but  the  white  of  a  fluttering  Marris 
coat,  or  the  brown  of  a  sheepskin  vest 

Lower  and  lower  moved  the  white  circle  of 
the  creeping  tribesmen.  It  was  like  watching 
the  foam  wash  of  the  incoming  tide. 

"Fix  bayonet,!"  commanded  Lutyens;  and 
250 


'* 


NAWAZ   KHAN,   GIFT  OF  ALLAH 

'•They  don't  relish  the  steel,"  .aid  Lutyen,; 
we  can  g.ve  them  point,  at  that  game,  any- 
way.  It  was  a  grim  joke,  for  he  knew  well  that 
number,  would  tell  in  the  end;  and  though  they 
-ght  be  driven  back  once,  twice,  a  dozen  times! 
the  Pathan  wolves  would  come  again,  and  again 
until  every  throat  was  cut.  ^     ' 

The  foe  was  down  in  the  valley  now,  not  three 
hundred  yards  and  slipping  from  rock  to  roS 
-^talking  their  white  prey. 

"When  they  mass  for  the  rush,"  said  the 
major  to  the  men,  "we'll  give  them  a  volley 
and  another  before  they  reach  us;  then  it'll  be' 
the  bayonet  against  their  big  knives.  Gad  I  I 
ahriost  thought-no,  it  couldn't  be.  I  fancied  I 
heard  a  bugle;  but  it's  one  of  their  cursed  sheep- 
calJs,  I  suppose. 

Snil!!^  ^u"^  ''."'  '™''^  ^''^  smooth-worn 
t%      M*"  ?'P""^   """^  '^'  long-barreled 

but  the  strong  hungry  knives  that  would  rip  and 
slash  when  they  had  broken  the  ranks. 

Suddenly  Afzul  was  seen  to  jump  on  a  rock 
and  wave  a  green  and  yellow  banner.  That  was 
the  signal  for  the  onslaught.  Pandemonium 
broke  loose.    Every  rock  and  every  hill  echoed 


17 


251 


M 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

with  a  hundred  tongues  die  fanatic  Moilein 
cry. 

"  They're  a  noity  lot  of  beggan,"  laid  the 
colonel,  "  juat  like  the  BurmeM;  but  they'll  fight 
better,  I  fancy." 

Like  a  pack  of  hungry  wolves  giving  cry  they 
started  up  the  ascent. 

"Present I  steady,  men  —  aim  low!  fire!" 
came  the  commands  sharp  and  clear  from  the 
major. 

A  red  circle,  of  hot,  belching  fire  darted  from 
the  black  barrels  of  the  Martinis;  and  the  wail- 
ing hail  swept  down  the  hillside,  and  the  white, 
rushing  line  swayed,  staggered,  trembled  for  an 
instant,  and  then  swept  on  again,  closing  up  the 
gaps  that  had  been  bitten  into  it  by  the  eager 
teeth.  The  Sniders  and  the  jezails  vomited  back 
an  answer;  but  the  stone  barricade  grabbed  at 
the  bullets,  and  only  three  men  swayed  drunkenly 
from  the  wall. 

Halfway  up  the  hill  the  Martinis  coughed 
again ;  and  the  second  volley  plowed  deeper  and 
more  terribly  into  the  Moslem  foe. 

Again  the  line  wavered;  there  was  a  lull; 
Afzul's  voice  could  be  heard  bellowing  like  a 
mountain  leopard  at  his  hesitating  men. 

A  low,  moaning  shriek  came  up  the  valley; 
there  was  a  crash  as  a  shrapnel  burst,  and  an 
352 


NAWAZ   KHAN,   GIFT  OF  ALLAH 

acre  of  bullets  hiued  and  screeched  m  they  cut 
through  the  air  on  the  charging  enemy's  flank. 
Bo(H>.m.m,"  ponderously  came  the  voice  of 
the  screw  gun  that  had  thrown  the  shell. 

"Hurrah  I  the  relief  I  "  cheered  Lutyens,  his 
bared  sword  gleaming.  "  Give  the  hounds  an- 
other  volley  1" 

Down  In  the  valley  an  English  bugle  was 
soundmg  the  charge.  "  Ph-u-t-t,  ph-u-t-t-ph-u- 
t-tl  a  Gatling  was  chirruping,  and  "Boo- 
o-m-ml  "  a  seven-pounder  was  chorusing.  The 
advancing  troops  were  volley  firing,  and  the 
white  mass  of  turbaned  tribesmen  was  beina 
rolled  back  like  a  war  map. 

Afzul's  men  had  come  too  late-the  stone 
wall  stared  at  them  stolidly;  they  broke;  and 
fold  on  fold  the  Pathan  mass  was  pushed  back 
and  up  through  the  Pass  they  had  come  down 
from. 

"Just  in  time,  eh?"  panted  Tenier,  as  he 
galloped  up  to  the  detachment. 

The  relief  was  complete.  It  was  useless  to 
toilow  the  Marris  among  the  hills  without 
cavalry. 

I  had  gone  up  with  the  regiment,  and  Tenier 

told  me  all  about  the  trouble.    There  was  a  ton 

of  guilt  on  my  soul;  for  if  I  had  spoken,  had 

told  of  the  ownership  of  the  ram,  all  this  might 

253 


M 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

have  been  averted.    How  wai  I  to  break  it  to 
the  colonel?    I  must  tell  him. 

That  night  at  dinner  Lutyens  luddenly  broke 
in  with,  "Well,  we  had  two  ripping  fights 
to-day." 

"Wat  this  the  second  attack?"  queried 
Tenier. 

"  No,  Nawaz  Khan  fought  the  first  battle. 
We  had  a  truce,  and  the  fellows  came  down  with 
a  sheep  built  like  a  '  blue  bull,'  and  he  did  up  the 
Khan  in  fine  shape." 

Why  the  thunder  did  they  attack  you  this 
time,  then,  if  they  got  the  ram?  "  I  asked. 

"  They  didn't  get  him,"  said  the  colonel  sim- 
ply in  his  squeaky  voice.  "  We  wouldn't  give 
him  up." 

"  Great  Scott  1  sir,"  I  exclaimed;  "  you've  for- 
ever  blasted  the  name  of  the  British  as  true 
sportsmen.  The  fundamental  principle,  sir, 
governing  all  ram  fights,  from  Calcutta  to 
Cabul,  is  that  the  victor  takes  the  beaten  ram." 

The  colonel's  face  turned  ashy  pale.  That 
he  had  killed  a  score  or  more  tribesmen  was  not 
the  cause,  for  that  had  been  a  fair  fight;  but  that 
he  had  done  this  thing  was  a  disgrace— he  saw 
that. 

"  More  than  that,"  I  exclaimed,  excited  by 
what  had  been  said,  and  seizing  the  opportunity, 
254 


NAWAZ   KHAN.   GIFT  OF   ALLAH 

"the  ram  belonged  to  them  in  the  first  place 
He  w,.  the  pride  of  their  tribe.  Somebody 
looted  h.m,  probably  the  man  who  brought  him 
into  the  regiment— Yusuf." 

colIn"r  '^°  ''°"  '""'  "'"'•  "'^"  «"P»^  "« 

I  explained. 

"What  shall  we  do-wh^t  shall  we  do?" 
moaned  the  colonel  Iitlpl«s!v. 

»K-"-^T'"„?''''"'""^'  '"'y^"»'  "we  must  put 

enough-and  they  were  in  the  right,  too." 

As  atonement,  I  offered  to  find  Afzul  the  ner. 
day  and  explain  matters. 

lowed  up  the  tribesmen,  and  found  Afzul      J 
explamed  it  all. 

We  had  trounced  them,  we  were  in  force,  and 
he  realized  that  what  I  said  must  be  true.    No 

htrbT::  zir^ ""'" '''  ''''"-'*  ">- 

He  accompanied  me  back  to  the  camp.  The 
Khan  was  turned  over  to  him,  and  a  good  in- 
dcmnity  paid  for  the  dead  tribesmen,  for  we 
were  undoubtedly  in  the  wrong. 

Afzu?"..T7  f'^'°^«^  ""y  country,"  said 
Aizul.       The  fight  was  a  good  one." 


THE  BLOODING  OF  A  GRIFFIN 

BRYMNER-SMYTH  was  subinspector 
of  police  at  Jacobabad,  Beluchistan. 
He  was  also  a  Griffin,  because  young- 
sters in  the  service  are  so  called.  A  Griffin  costs 
his  Majesty  many  sovereigns  landed  in  India, 
so  he  is  allowed  seven  major  mistakes  and  many 
minor  ones,  before  he  is  cast  from  the  centers 
of  utility,  labeled  a  "  king's  bad  bargain,"  and 
sent  away  to  test  climatic  influences.  And  Brym- 
ner-Smyth  all  but  relied  his  seven  major  mistakes 
into  one  at  the  tin.;,  he  was  tried  in  the  Sibi 
Desert. 

When  Killock  sent  word  from  Hindiput  that 
the  Pathans  and  coolies  were  in  mutiny,  Brym- 
ner-Smyth  was  sent  with  six  Punjabi  police  to 
put  matters  right. 

The  military  railway,  slowly  crawling  toward 
the  Bolan,  had  as  yet  reached  but  to  Jacobabad, 
so  the  police  and  luggage  were  attached  to 
camels,  and  Brymner-Smyth  rode  his  Beluchi 
mare  to  Hindiput,  eighty  miles  away. 
And  because  he  was  just  a  man-boy,  inebriated 


THE    BLOODING   OF   A   GRIFFIN 

with  the  elation  of  his  first  responsibility,  the 
barren  Sibi  Desert,  that  men  call  a  godless  waste, 
was  to  him  that  morning  a  field  of  cloth  of  gold, 
Pathans  and  looters  and  mutinous  coolies  hold 
prospect  of  promotive  service.    He  would  be  a 
Bara  Sahib  at  Hindiput,  loo— the  one  in  charge. 
The  way  lay  over  a  dead  sea;  the  breast  of 
earth  was  barren  and  without  fruitfulness;  the 
horse's  hoofs  bit  into  the  soulless  sand  with  a 
slipping  crunch;  it  was  a  blaring  mirror  that  re- 
flected in  his  face  the  fierce  heat  his  helmet 
shielded  from  above.    His  throat  closed  utterly 
and  his  lips  corrugated  into  filelike  ridges  of 
crinkled  parchment;  even  behind  colored  glasses 
his  eyes  fevered  to  redness.    But  these  things, 
one  and  all,  only  gave  the  Griffin  joy,  for  was  it 
not  the  toil  of  emancipation  ? 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  second  day  he  drew 
into  a  land  beautiful;  lakes  of  blue  water,  tur- 
quoise charms  set  in  tawny  gold;  swaying  palms 
traced  like  giant  ferns  against  green  hills  that 
held,  higher  up,  purple-hazed  valleys;  and  slow- 
crawling  down  from  the  hills  came  camel  cara- 
vans wending  toward  a  city  that  must  be  Hin- 
diput. 

Eagerly  Brymner-Smyth  pushed  his  lean  ewe- 
necked  mare  toward  the  land  of  promise;  but 
with  the  coyness  of  a  maiden  the  vista  shrank 
2S7 


1. 


m^ 


'  RF^i 


fl 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

before  his  roused  desire;  and  presently,  without 
reason,  the  wondrous  art  thing  that  was  a  mirage 
blurred  in  the  trembling  heat  that  quivered  in 
the  desert  furnace,  and  he  stood  at  the  elbow 
of  Hindiput;  there,  in  a  grassless  waste,  a  dozen 
mud-walled  huts,  flat-topped  by  corrugated  iron, 
hot  beds  of  ophthalmia,  was  the  white-robed 
city  he  had  seen  in  the  mirage. 

At  Jacobabad  the  Griffin's  messmates,  prolific 
in  unwise  humor,  had  enlarged  upon  the  charms 
of  Hindiput;  priming  the  innocent  one  with  false 
tales  of  rajahs'  palaces  and  trade  bazaars. 

The  traveler  slid  from  his  roach-backed  beast, 
rubbed  his  eyes  inquiringly,  and  then,  in  the  full- 
ness of  his  disillusionment,  swore  softly  at  the 
uncertainty  of  things  in  India,  and  the  misuse 
that  had  been  made  of  his  credulity. 

Then  he  passed  to  a  house  which  rose  above 
the  c.'iers;  this  might  be  a  mirage  or  the  habi- 
tation of  Killock. 

As  he  stood  in  the  door,  a  large  matter  of 
flesh  swung  itself  from  a  charpoy  and  confronted 
him.  It  was  Killock.  And  on  Killock  were 
these  things — a  short-sleeved  banian  and  a  pair 
of  voluminous  khaki  trousers  that,  like  a  ram's 
horn,  chronicled  their  age  by  wrinkles. 

And  the   man-boy  with  the   riveted  name, 
which  was  a  caste  mark  equal  to  the  Brahmin- 
as8 


THE    BLOODING   OF   A   GKIFFIN 

ical  thread,  sighed  as  the  final  mirage  of  a  social 
Hindiput  curled  up  and  departed  before  the 
burly  figure  that  was  coffee-brown  and  huge  of 
chest. 

That  was  the  beginning;  but  progression 
was  worse.  It  was  as  though  fate  had  stabled 
together  a  thoroughbred  and  a  rhino. 

Brymner-Smyth  tied  a  tag  of  identification  to 
die  huge  man  which  read  "  Navvy  Killock,"  and 
Navvy  Killock  spent  a  day  and  a  night— for  he 
was  sluggish  of  thought— over  his  black  pipe 
before  he  evolved  for  the  inspector  "Lord 
Bobby."  But  when  the  name  came  there  was 
no  doubt  about  its  applicability. 

"  'E  puts  on  airs  like  a  bloomin'  lord,  an'  'e's 
nothink  but  a  bloody  cop— that's  what  'e  is 
Mister  bloomin'  Smith-Bounder— Lord  Bobby,' 
I'll  call  'im."    Then  he  took  a  swig  of  gin  and  it 
was  settled. 

It  wouldn't  have  mattered  so  much  had  there 
been  anything  for  the  inspector  to  do,  but  there 
wasn't;  his  mission  was  inaction,  which  is  the 
father  of  curses  in  India.  The  turbulence  of  the 
natives  was  but  a  fantasy  of  Killock's  gin-heated 
imagmation.  He  had  harked  back  to  his  pri- 
mary condition  of  life  over  a  work  discussion 
with  some  Marwari  coolies,  injudiciously  seek- 
ing to  make  the  matter  clear  to  their  understand- 
259 


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THIRTEEN    MEN 

ing  with  his  fists;  they,  being  men  of  Marwar, 
took  up  the  matter  with  cudgels.  That  was  all 
there  was  to  it. 

Killock  had  been  bom  in  a  caul  of  economy, 
and  he  had  tortured  this  virtue  till  in  his  case  it 
became  a  vice.  Whatever  the  Griffin  was  in  the 
way  of  verdancy,  he  was  above  meanness;  and 
Killock,  taking  him  as  legitimate  prey,  drank  his 
liquor  and  smoked  his  cheroots,  and  ate  his  pro- 
visions, until  the  boy  walked  to  one  side  in  the 
desert  at  night,  and  lifted  up  his  voice  to  the  sky 
that  was  knee-doep  in  stars:  "  Hindiput  and  Kil- 
lock—Killock  and  Hindiput  1  My  God!  was 
there  ever  such  a  combination !  " 

In  the  Navvy's  bungalow,  beside  a  thermom- 
eter, hung  a  penciled  record  with  a  long  row  of 
figures  running  from  loo  to  121  in  the  shade— 
a  temperature  which  might  have  set  two  holy 
fathers  at  each  other's  throats,  and  the  Navvy's 
covetousness  and  greasiness  of  thought  added 
five  degrees  to  this  Sheol. 

Brymner-Smyth's  hyphened  name,  insignia  of 
all  that  Killock  was  not,  proved  an  irritant,  a 
fly  blister  of  utterance. 

"  Mister  Bloomin'  Smith — that's  wot  'e  is," 
Killock  told  his  pipe;  "it's  too  bloody  'ot  to 
wear  a  hovercoat  on  a  bloke's  name." 

The  truth  was,  Killock  couldn't  master  it  at 
260 


THE    BLOODING   OF   A    GRIFFIN 

all.  "Brimmer-Smith,  Captain  Brim-Smithe  " 
—a  dozen  such  entanglements  the  Navvy  landed 
in  when  he  essayed  the  real  thing.  When  he 
was  gin-loaded,  which  was  always  in  the  even- 
ing, he  fell  back  on  plain  "  Mister  Smith." 

When  the  Griffin  remonstrated  with  serious 
gentleness,  Killock  retorted:  "  Wot  th'  'ell's  the 
diPrence  in  this  blawsted  'ole?  Jus'  leave  the 
double-breasted  name  'angin'  on  a  peg  with  yer 
dress  suit  at  'eadquarters ;  it's  too  'ot  'ere  fer 
style.  Comfort's  a  heap  better'n  hetiquette,  I 
sez." 

But  two  white  men  bound  together  in  a  sand- 
pit  in  a  desert  must  foregather,  and  the  Griffin 
tried  cards  as  likely  to  render  Killock  possible  at 
times.  But  the  Navvy  thumped  the  table  and 
blew  the  twang  of  his  rank  pipe  into  the  inspect- 
or's face;  and,  the  end  of  it  all,  allowed  his  fat 
fingers  to  manipulate  the  ivory  counter  past  all 
toleration. 

"  Heavens !  was  there  ever  such  a  beast ! " 
Brymner-Smyth  confided  to  his  charpoy  as  he 
threw  himself  on  its  rope-woven  web  the  night 
Killock  had  cheated  at  whist. 

The  inspector  had  sent  a  written  report  to 

Jacobabad  by  a  Pathan  on  a  fast-riding  camel, 

with  the  uselessness  of  his  mission  at  Hindiput 

enlarged  upon;  but  Major  Eustace  shoved  it  into 

261 


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THIRTEEN   MEN 

a  pigeonhole  of  futurity  with  a  little  contracting 
of  his  grim  features. 

The  major  had  a  hobnailed  liver,  and  Brym- 
ner-Smyth  had  been  just  a  touch  irritating  with 
his  undimatic  desire  for  endeavor.  The  India 
OfSce  had  a  disconcerting  way  of  sending  out 
shoals  of  youngsters,  as  yearlings  are  sent  up 
to  the  sales  at  Newmarket,  and  it  was  the  duty 
of  wearied  elders  in  the  service  to  deposit  them 
in  harmless  places.  The  major  had  done  fairly 
well  by  the  Griffin  that  came  his  way,  in  side- 
tracking him  at  Hindiput,  he  thought. 

So  Brymner-Smyth  sat  day  after  day  on  the 
bank  of  earth  the  coolies  had  thrown  up  from 
the  huge  tank  they  were  digging,  seeking  to 
disentangle  from  the  nebulous  sky  line  a  real 
camel  man  bringing  him  orders  of  release.  And 
always  on  the  rim  of  one  horizon  a  ball  of  white- 
hot  metal  shot  into  the  air,  and  climbed,  soul-sear- 
ing, over  their  heads  for  hours  and  hours  till  it 
dropped  from  sight  on  the  other  rim.  That  was 
the  ever-recurrent  form  of  a  day  in  Hindiput. 

Sometimes  Navvy  Killock  would  come  and  sit 
beside  the  boy,  and,  oyster-like,  open  up  and 
vomit  forth  pearls  of  thought. 

"  Wot  th'  'ell  is  the  Gov'ment  goin'  to  do 
with  this  'ole  in  the  ground — that's  what  beats 
me.    They  ain't  no  water  'ere,  an'  it  never  rains, 
262 


THE    BLOODING   OF   A   GRIFFIN 

an'  I'm  blowed  if  I  see  the  good  of  a  tank  where 
there  ain't  no  water." 

Brymner-Smyth  didn't  know,  and  said  so; 
and  Killock,  weary  with  the  stupendous,  unsolv- 
able  mystery,  would  wind  up  with  "  some  hofEce 
bloke's  got  the  hidea  as  a  tank's  needed  'ere,  I 
s'pose,  an'  I  reckons  if  they  pays  me  my  bit  fer 
lookin'  arter  the  job,  it's  no  haffair  of  mine." 

The  inspector  might  have  remained  marooned 
on  the  sands  of  Hindiput  till  in  desperation  he 
committed  hara-kiri,  had  not  a  complication  with 
tribesmen  up  Dehra  way  made  a  sudden  call  for 
men  on  the  head  office. 

So  to  the  waiting  one  came  a  blue  envelope 
with  orders  to  report  at  Dehraonthe20th.  Also 
there  was  official  inkling  of  stirringservice  ahead. 
That  was  the  i6th.  Dehra  was  in  the  foot- 
hills, two  days'  march  away,  which  left  two  days 
of  Killock.  No  wonder  the  boy  took  a  handful 
of  cigars  to  the  man  who  had  worn  his  patience 
threadbare. 

When  he  told  Killock  of  his  going,  the  Nav- 
vy's pig  eyes  closed  to  a  narrow  slit.  "  That's 
a  rum  go,  Cap'n  Smythers.  Who's  goin'  to  keep 
the  black  soars  from  lootin'  ?  That's  wot  I  arsk 
the  Guv'ment.  They'll  puckorow  heverythink, 
an'  if  I  hinterfere,  wot  do  I  git?— a  bloomin* 
butcher  knife  shoved  hinto  my  belly." 
263 


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f.  ■*' 


t  i 


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U* 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

The  Nawy  swallowed  a  glass  of  gin,  drew 
the  back  of  his  hand  across  his  mouth,  and 
squinted  suspiciously  at  the  inspector.  Had 
Lord  Bobby  been  playing  him  double — been 
writing  to  get  away  without  consulting  him. 

And  as  Brymner-Smyth  swung  back  to  his 
I  m  hut,  Killock,  watching  him  going,  muttered : 
"  That  blawsted  toff  wants  to  get  back  where 
there's  swells;  'e  don't  care  if  I'm  killed,  an'  my 
ole  'oman  an'  the  kids  starve." 

Then  he  looked  at  the  thin  penciled  line  of 
blood  driven  from  the  heart  of  the  thermometer 
by  the  fierce  heat  till  it  rested  atop  at  117,  and 
exclaimed,  "God I  wot  a  'ole  to  fry  in!" 
[The  he  went  out  and  hurled  strange  Hindoo- 
stanee  oaths  at  a  Pathan  camel  man  who  under- 
stood only  Pushtu,  which  was  just  as  well  for  the 
Navvy.] 

The  record  of  Killock's  gentle  ways  would  be 
as  useless  in  this  story  as  the  history  of  a  river 
mugger's  existence,  were  it  not  that  no  man  could 
judge  the  Griffin  when  he  did  the  thing  that  he 
did  if  Killock's  part  were  left  out. 

On  the  next  day,  the  17th,  two  natives  lay 
sick  in  the  cooly  lines,  and  Killock,  whom  the 
fates  had  ordained  to  the  misplacement  of  all 
things,  swore  they  were  malingering. 

But  Baboo  Ramchunder,  the  Bengali  apothe- 
264 


THE   BLOODING   OF  A   GRIFFIN 

cary.  diagnosed  the  caies  according  to  the  ver- 
bose  method  of  his  kind.  "  The  pathology  of 
their  sick  IS  vertigo,  also  prostration  of  appetite, 
because  they  absteme  from  rice,"  he  said 

This  seemed  to  settle  the  thing,  and  Brymner- 
S)myth  thought  no  more  of  the  sick  coolies,  be- 
cause he  was  on  the  edge  of  going  away  and  the 
things  of  Hindiput  were  things  to  be  left  behind 
At  noon  on  the  1 8th  his  Punjabis  left  with  the 
luggage-laden  camels.  They  would  camp  over- 
night at  a  serai  on  the  road,  and  the  inspector, 
leaving  before  daylight  next  morning,  would 
overtake  them. 

An  hour  after  the  Punjabis  had  left,  the  heart 
of  Hindiput  stood  still  with  fear.  Panic,  that 
speaks  all  languages,  that  is  as  universal  as  a 
sob,  touched  the  hearts  of  the  Pathans  and  the 
Marwari  coolies,  the  big,  flabby  heart  of  Navvy 
Killock,  and-and  crept  a  little  into  the  soul  of 
the  Gnflin. 

One  man  was  dead,  and  the  baboo,  who  was 
a  doctor  out  of  courtesy  of  speech,  had  now  dis- 
covered It  was  cholera. 

"  It  is  this  way  with  the  pestilential  aflliction, 
that  when  patient  is  defunct  diagnosis  is  abso- 
lute  and  cholera  has  smited  Ram  Baksh  and  also 
Uhiloo.  who  is  his  brother."  Thus  he  summed 
up  the  startling  situation. 
265 


"  I  ( 


0    ":} 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

The  Griffin  wat  but  a  boy,  thi»  we  must  re- 
member. In  battle  he  would  have  ducked  at  the 
icreech  of  the  fint  ihell  and  ducked  again  until 
he  had  been  blooded.  His  face  went  white,  and 
his  soul  ducked  at  the  baboo's  patter. 

In  an  hour  Hindiput  was  a  death  trap.  The 
hot  air  vibrated  with  fear— the  breath  of  the 
black  scourge  seemed  in  every  man's  nostrils. 
The  Pathans  fled  with  their  camels,  and  when 
men  sought  conveyance  they  drew  long  knives 
and  drove  them  off.  Anyone  might  have  germs 
of  disease  on  his  person,  and  those  who  could 
get  away  sought  to  flee  alone;  to  wander  out 
afoot  on  the  desert  was  worse  than  to  remain. 

The  frightened  ones  had  seen  Ram  Baksh, 
his  blue  fingers  driven  nail-deep  into  the  palms 
of  his  watery  hands;  his  bloodless  lips  festooned 
with  the  bubbling  froth  of  death  as  he  lay  rigid 
as  steel,  his  head  and  knees  drawn  together. 

And  the  baboo,  great  in  incapacity,  knowing 
not  of  the  destroying  thing,  had  given  jalap, 
which  was  as  efficacious  as  the  sufferer's  invo- 
cation to  Siva  the  Destroyer  for  mercy.  And 
another  man  was  now  on  his  back — either  of 
fear  or  the  scourge — and  the  natives  were  sore 
afraid. 

Brymner-Smyth  was  practically  a  "casual " ; 
in  actuality  he  had  removed  himself  from  the 
266 


THE  BL0OD7NG  OF  A  GRIFFIN 
«««  of  «.,  1,  „i„j|p„,,  I,,, 

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THIRTEEN    MEN 

and  see  the  thing  through,"  the  boy  said  with  a 
query  in  his  voice. 

Killock  tipped  his  huge  body  forward  on  the 
stool  till  his  alcoholic  breath  blew  a  mist  in  the 
boy's  face ;  his  small  eyes  were  like  red  beads  in 
a  yellow  matrix,  fear  and  cunning  jostling  each 
other  in  their  narrow  holding. 

"  Look  ee  'ere,  sir,  'tain't  yer  hoffice  to  fight 
cholera  no  more'n  it's  mine.  Yer  can't  do 
nothink  here  but  get  tuk  yerself ;  an'  the  Guv'- 
ment  wouldn't  thank  y'u  if  y'u  was  dead,  would 
they?    Y'u  shift  to-night,  d'ye  'ear?  " 

"  I  must  do  my  duty  whichever  way  it  lies." 

The  words  rang  true  enough,  but  Killock's 
ears  were  adder's  ears,  deaf  with  the  poison  of 
fright. 

"  To  'ell  wi'  dooty  I  ain't  you  got  no  women 
iolks  to  'ome — no  mother  or  sweetheart  waitin' 
feryou?" 

The  boy  looked  curiously  at  the  fat  man,  who 
was  full  of  unconscious  tragedy.  Had  he  mis- 
judged the  barbarian — had  Killock  really  a 
good  heart?    He  was  soon  answered. 

"That's  my  hidea  of  hit.  My  ol'  woman 
an'  the  kids,  they're  a-livin'  in  a  cottage  hout 
Clapham  Road  w'y,  an'  there's  roses  a-bloomin' 
in  the  garden,  an'  marigolds,  an'  the  robins  is 
'oppin'  habout,  an'  the  larks  a-singin' — that's 
268 


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THE   BLOODING  OF  A  GRIFFIN 

wot  she  sens  in  a  letter.  An'  be  I  goin'  t'  die 
in  this  'ere  God-forsaken  'ole,  an'  git  planted 
like  a  cooly  in  th'  sand,  wi'  rocks  atop  to  keep 
the  jackals  an'  hyeiiers  from  rootin'  me  hup? 
Nex'  year  I  was  a-goin'  'ome — d'ye  'ear?— 
a-goin'  'ome  to  th'  ol'  woman.  That's  where 
I  wants  t'  die— in  ol"  Hengland,  where  they  puts 
roses  an'  white  flowers  on  a  man's  grrve!  " 

The  boy  held  his  breath ;  the  dreadful  earnest- 
ness of  the  frightened  Killock  was  dramatic. 

"  It's  hin  the  water  wot  that  pagan  Pathan 
brings  in  his  filthy  leather  bottles  on  his  camels. 
That's  why  I've  had  me  tot  o'  gin— I  knowed 
It  'ud  come.  An'  a  man  wot  stays  'ere  might 
be  tuk  in  a  hour.  An'  s'pose  I'm  tuk  wi'  it,  th' 
niggers'll  clear  hout— not  a  mother's  son  of 
|em'll  come  near  a  white  man  when  'e's  tuk, 
'cause  they're  white-livered  swine.  Y'u  take  my 
word  fer  it,  Cap'n,  you've  got  yer  borders 
to  go,  an'  jus'  cut  aw'y  from  th'  bloody  'ole 
—it  stinks  wi'  th'  cholera.  An'  I'm  goin'  wi' 
you." 

Brymner-Smyth  knew— the  silk  purse  was  but 
a  sow's  ear. 

You've  got  to  stay  here— you're  in  charge," 
he  said  deliberately. 

"I'm  not  goin'— 'ow  d'you  make  that  hout? 
I  hain't  got  no  right  t'  stay  'ere  an'  die— I  hain't 
269 


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HP  '■' 
■  4'' 

i 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

no  doctor;  the  baboo's  doctor  'ere — 'c's  paid  t' 
take  chances." 

"  But  you're  in  charge  of  the  baboo;  you  keep 
the  medicine  chest.  If  you  leave,  he'll  clear  out. 
You're  responsible." 

"Responsible  be  blowedl  Will  the  Guv'- 
ment  be  responsible  for  my  ol'  woman  an'  kids 
if  I  die?" 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  Brym- 
ncr-Smyth  answered;  "but  you  can't  go  with 
me.  God,  maii,  it  would  be  deserting  your  post, 
and  I  would  be  a  party  to  it  1  " 

"  Desertin'  1  hain't  you  desertin'  ?  You're 
like  the  Bara  Sahib  at  'eadquarters,  'e'U  be  at 
the  mess  drinkin'  'is  hiced  peg;  an'  wot  does  'e 
care  if  I'm  'ere  dyin'  o'  cholera? — no  more 
do  you.  See  'ere,  youngster" — and  Killock 
clutched  the  boy's  jacket — "  we'll  cut  aw'y  to- 
gether. If  you  st'y  'ere  you'll  die,  sure  as 
'eaven.  We're  'uddled  like  pigs  in  a  sty,  an' 
wot  one's  got  all'll  get.  I'm  caught  hin  a  trap, 
I  tell  you.  'Ow'm  I  goin'  to  get  a  'undred  miles 
in  the  desert? — I'd  'ave  sunstroke.  Take  me 
wi'  you  till  we  catch  hup  yer  men — I'll  pay 
hanythink  you  like  fer  a  lift  on  a  camel." 

"  Go  back  to  your  bungalow,"  Brymner- 
Smyth  answered,  "  and  let  me  think  this  hor- 
rible thing  all  out." 

370 


THE    BLOODING   OF   A   GRIFFIN 

Killock  obeyed  without  a  word,  and  the  boy 
went  through  a  process  that  he  called  thinking. 
It  was  hardly  that— it  was  more  like  listening 
to  the  bells. 

Even  Killock  had  said  he  ought  to  go,  and 
that  was  something:  in  reality,  he  was  afraid— 
which  was  everything. 

Panic  impregnates  the  air  with  germs  that 
poison  every  living  thing  that  breathes  them. 
So  the  boy,  into  whose  being  these  imps  of  un- 
reason had  crept,  groping  blindly,  became  pos- 
sessed  of  but  two  ideas:  he  would  go  away,  it 
was  his  duty;  and  Killock  must  remain,  it  was 
his  duty. 

When  it  grew  dark,  Brymner-Smyth  put  the 
saddle  on  his  mare  am  .  jde  toward  Killock's 
bungalow.  He  couldn't  quite  go  away  without 
speaking  to  the  Navvy:  it  meant  another  scene, 
but  he  couldn't  help  it. 

The  scene  was  a  scene. 

When  Hindiput  was  without  cholera,  Killock 
drank  much  gin;  now,  because  of  the  scourge, 
he  poured  it  down. 

It  was  little  short  of  a  madman  that  lurched 
from  the  bungalow,  and  learning  from  the  in- 
spector's lips  that  he  was  to  remain,  called  the 
curses  of  all  gods.  Christian  and  patjan,  upon 
the  milk-sustained  babe  in  the  saddle. 
271 


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THIRTEEN    MEN 


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"  I'm  tuk  now,  I  tell  you,"  he  said,  "  my  ol' 
woman'll  curse  you  to  her  dyin'  day.  There's 
gripes  in  my  belly  now  as  'ud  cut  th'  'e&rt  out 
of  a  ox.  You're  cuttin'  hit — you're  a  hofficer 
as  runs  aw'y  an'  leaves  a  Tommy  to  get  shot." 

Fear  guided  the  vocabulary  of  Killock.  It 
veered  him  as  the  wind  twists  a  weathercock; 
one  minute  the  inspector  was  to  go,  the  next  he 
was  cursed  for  not  remaining. 

"  I'm  sorry,  but  my  staying  will  do  no  good; 
besides,  I  can't — I've  got  my  orders." 

As  he  spoke  the  inspector  chirruped  to  his 
horse.  With  an  oath,  Killock  lurched  forward 
and  grasped  the  snaffle  ring  of  the  bridle. 

"  Look  'ere,  Mister  Cop,  I  goes  wi'  you,  or 
you  st'ys  wi'  me.  I  hain't  stickin'  alone  to  th' 
sinkin'  ship — 'ear  that?  " 

"  Take  your  hand  off  the  bridle  I  " 

"  'Ere,  come  hout  o'  the  saddle  I  "  and  Kil- 
lock's  disengaged  hand  clawed  at  the  boy's  gai- 
ters, fumbling  for  a  finger-hold. 

Brymner-Smyth  leaned  over  the  pommel,  and 
the  butt  of  his  riding  whip  landed  on  the  gorilla- 
like wrist  that  was  dragging  the  horse's  nose  to 
its  shoulder.  The  Navvy's  arm  dropped  to  his 
side,  where  it  hung  limp  as  a  stocking  on  a 
clothesline.  The  mare  swerved  at  the  sudden 
freeing  of  her  head  and  plunged  forward. 
272 


THE    BLOODING   OF   A   GRIFFIN 

The  boy  let  her  go.  In  his  ears  the  speed- 
thc-guest  of  Killock:  "You  'it  me,  you  swipe  I 
Come  back  'ere  an'  I'll  daw  yer  'eart  out,  you 
cowardly  swaggering  bobby !  " 

The  mare  was  galloping,   and  the  passion 

words  came  in  little  puffs,  and  presently  were 

obliterated  by  distance;  the  last  sound  reaching 

the  boy  from  the  mud  waUs  of  pestilence  was 

coward." 

The  mare's  shoeless  hoofs  echoed  the  dismal 
word  from  the  sunburned  crust  of  the  desert 
—"Cowardly  coward— cowardly  coward!" 
the  galloping  refrain,  and  all  because  the  rider 
was  handicapped  with  a  lead  cloth  of  doubt. 

In  half  a  mile  the  mare  shifted  her  fore  legs 
and  slipped  into  the  shuffling  trot  of  the  country, 
bred.  The  road  was  a  furrow  worn  by  the  pad 
feet  of  camels,  reaching  toward  the  Sulieman's 
where  was  Dehra. 

The  boy's  head  rested  on  his  chest,  thinking, 
thinking  in  a  blurred  way  that  led  to  nothing, 
his  eyes  seeing  not  the  star-jeweled  sky  above 
that  was  a  vast  aigrette,  almost  musical  in  its 
brilliancy;  below,  the  desert,  gray  in  the  night 
light,  was  like  smooth  waters. 

As  though  he  had  slept  in  the  saddle,  without 
knowledge  of  the  two  hours  that  had  gone,  sud- 
denly from  the  gray  waste  a  blank  mud  wall 
273 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

confronted  him — it  was  the  serai  wherein  the 
Punjabis  were  to  await  his  coming. 

One  of  the  men  took  the  horse,  and  the  in- 
spector,  scarce  speaking,  threw  himself  on  his 
blankets  and  tried  to  shut  out  the  scene  that 
caused  his  eyes  to  bum. 

Sleep !  It  passed  without  claiming  from  Pun- 
jabi to  Punjabi,  and  then  mocked  him  from  their 
faces  of  content. 

Why  did  his  mind  wrestle  with  the  problem 
he  had  settled — he  was  obeying  orders  ?  Also, 
he  was  a  coward — some  voice  that  was  a  lying 
voice  screamed  it  through  a  hole  in  the  mud  wall, 
or  perhaps  it  was  one  of  the  sleepers  had  said  it, 
or  perhaps  it  was  an  echo  of  the  drunken  Kil- 
lock's  voice. 

Brymner-Smyth  rose,  turned  low  the  lantern, 
slipped  from  the  serai,  and  out  on  the  desert; 
asked  the  stars — or  perhaps  it  •  as  the  Arranger- 
of-the-Stars — for  some  sign  that  would  smother 
to  silence  the  voices  of  doubt.  But  in  the  book 
of  stars  is  written  nothing  of  GrifSns,  or  cholera, 
or  fear,  and  on  the  desert  is  stamped  but 
desolation.  He  went  back  to  his  blanket, 
his  mind  numbed  to  uselessness  as  a  guide  to 
right. 

At  two  o'clock  the  desert  trail  cast  something 
in  at  the  door.     It  was  a  Beluchi  camel  man, 
274 


THE    BLOODING   OF   A   GRIFFIN 

with  a  desire  to  talk  of  how  the  black  scourge 
was  even  then  at  Hindiput. 

Allah!  whose  name  be  ever  blessed,  but  he 
had  c.  me  near  to  disaster.  He  had  stopped  at 
the  accursed  village,  and  at  once  a  Hindoo  dog, 
a  baboo  of  animal  descent,  had  besought  him 
for  conveyance  out  of  Hindiput.  The  sahib, 
fat,  and  a  wine  drinker,  had  been  stricken— 
perhaps  even  now  he  was  dead.  Yes,  the  baboo 
hakm  had  said  the  sahib  had  cholera,  and  that 
he  would  surely  die. 

The  boy  had  been  asking  for  a  sign  from  the 
stars,  or  out  of  the  desert.    It  had  been  given  him. 
_^  Quick  I  saddle  the  mare!  "  he  commanded. 
Huzoor,  if  the  captain  sahib  goes  to  Hin- 
diput, this  evil  thing  will  come  upon  the  sahib 
beyond  doubt,"  his  men  answered. 

"Will  any  one  volunteer  to  go  with  me?" 
Brymner-Smyth  asked.  "  Of  the  Sirkar's  or- 
ders,  you  may  go  to  Dehra;  of  my  asking,  will 
any  go  back  to  the  saving  of  lives?  " 

But  the  Punjabis  answered  that  they  were 
men  of  large  families— if  they  died  their  little 
babas  would  starve.  Also  the  Sirkar's  orders 
were  to  be  obeyed,  because  they  ate  the  salt  of 
the  Sirkar. 

"Who  is  at  Dehra  I  know  not,"  the  in- 
spector  told  his  men,  "  but  make  report  there 
275 


^ 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

that  I  have  gone  back  to  Hindiput  because  of 
cholera,     and    will    come    again    to    Dehra 

when " 

The  boy  stopped  to  think,  and  one  of  his 
Punjabis  carried  on  the  interrupted  sentence 
with,  "  the  captain  sahib  will  come  to  Dehra  in 
the  pleasure  of  Kudah  "  (God). 

Brymner-Smyth  mounted  his  mare  and  rode 
back  in  the  camel  rut  that  was  a  road,  and  fear 
had  fallen  from  him  and  the  panic  had  passed. 
He  was  blooded  in  cholera,  and  the  problem 
was  settled,  and,  hard  riding,  through  his  set 
teeth  he  prayed  that  he  might  come,  in  the  way 
of  atonement,  to  the  side  of  Killock  while  still 
he  lived. 

The  light  was  breaking  as  the  inspector,  com- 
ing to  the  stricken  village,  met  a  white-clothed 
figure  puddling  along  the  road.  It  was  the 
baboo.  The  Bengali's  jaw  dropped  in  aston- 
ished fear  when  he  saw  the  sahib. 

"Where  are  you  off  to?"  Brymner-Smyth 
asked,  as  he  pulled  up  his  mare. 

The  baboo  blinked  his  big  solemn  eyes  and 
wrestled  with  his  wits  for  an  answer. 

"Deserting?" 

"  No,  sahib,  taking  constitutional." 

"  Don't  lie — you're  running  away.     How  is 
the  sahib — is  he  dead?  " 
276 


THE    BLOODING   OF   A   GRIFFIN 

"  Yes,  yoji  honor,  he  is  defunct.  Coma  com- 
ing, and,  notwithstanding  injunction  from  me, 
Killock  Sahib  is  taking  copious  draughts  of  gin, 
and  then  yielded  up  the  ghost." 

"  And  you  got  scared  and  cleared  out." 
"  No,  your  honor.  I'm  a  poor  man,  not 
learned  with  knives  and  fighting.  And  cooly 
mans  telling  they  will  kill  because  I  give  them 
bad  medicine,  they  say.  Because  of  that  wicked- 
ness on  the  cooly  mans'  part,  I  have  come  out 
here  to  summon  help." 

"You're  a  great  liar,  baboo,"  Brymner- 
Smyth  answered,  "  and  .  ■  ought  to  be  kicked." 
Already  he  was  forgetting  his  own  fright  that 
had  been.  "  Come  with  me;  we  must  do  what 
we  can,"  he  added. 

And  as  thev  rounded  the  end  of  Killock's 
bungalow  they  licard  the  dead  man's  voice  call- 
ing,  "  Baboo!— oh,  I'm  sick!    Baboo!  " 

Brymner-Smyth  looked  at  Ramchunder,  and 
he,  shifting  uneasily  under  the  glance,  said, 
"  Coma  has  passed,  but  the  sahib  will  defunct 
soon." 

They  passed  into  the  house.    Hillock  was  on 

his  charpoy,  and  the  cholera  had  eaten  up  the 

repulsive  coarseness  of  his  for.-n  until  he  was 

gaunt. 

At  sight  of  the  inspector,  his  dull,  heavy  eyes 

277 


'I 


f       i  I 


II 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

brightened.  "  You— you've  come  back,  cap'n. 
God  be  thanked!  I'm  tuk— I  knowed  it  'ud 
come."  He  bum  into  tears  and  sobbed  like  a 
babe. 

Brymner-Smyth  put  his  hand  on  the  sick  man's 
forehead.    "  Don't  give  up,  Killock;  we'll  pull 
you  through  all  right,"  he  said. 
"  I'm  done  for,"  the  Navvy  answered  plain- 

tively.    "  God  help  us;  my  ol'  woman  'ill " 

Then  the  sickness  doubled  him  up,  and  for 
ten  -ninutes  he  writhed  and  was  sick. 

The  Griffin  had  a  strong  polo  wrist,  but  he 
was  a  babe  in  the  matter  of  illness. 

"  Great  Heavens,  baboo  I  What  do  you  stand 
there  blinking  for?  Give  the  man  something 
— he'll  die  on  our  hands." 

"  Yes,  sar,  I  am  cogitate  diagnose  for  proper 
draught.  Best  authorities  advise  chlorodyne. 
But  already,  sahib,  I  have  given  planfy  big  dose, 
and  always  the  sahib  redelivering  back  again. 
Also,  he  is  reproach  most  blasphemous." 

The  baboo  poured  much  medicine  down  the 
sick  man,  who  now,  subdued  by  fear,  did  not 
curse  the  physician. 

Ignorant  though  he  was  of  the  effects  of  chol- 

era,  Brymner-Smyth  fancied  that  the  Navvy's 

bullock-like  constitution  was  making  a   great 

fight  against  the  disease;  he  certainly  was  not  in 

278 


THE    BLOODING   OF   A   GRIFFIN 

the  itate  of  collapse  the  baboo  had  pictured,  and 
the  boy's  coming  seemed  to  have  lessened  the 
fear  that  would  surely  have  killed  him  had  he 
been  left  alone. 

"  'Eavens,  it  bums  I  "  Killock  wailed,  as  the 
liquid  scoria  singed  its  way  down  his  throat. 
"  I've  sufccred  hawful,  sir."  He  lay  still  for 
a  little,  panting  with  the  pain.  The  morphine 
element  in  the  drug  soothed  him  now,  and,  turn- 
ing  from  his  immedia'e  fear  of  dissolution,  he 
hariced  back  to  what      d  gone  before. 

"  I've  been  a  bit  rough,  cap'n,  an'  I  begs  to 
'pologize.  All  along  o'  the  drink  I  called  y'u 
a  bloody  coward,  an'  'ere  y'u  are  ,  'ero,  takin' 
chances  o'  th'  cholera  an'  a-nursin'     e.    I  don't 

want  to  die  wi'  no  hard  feelin's " 

"  There,  there,  don't  say  anything,"  the  boy 
interrupted.  "You're  not  going  to  die— we 
won't  let  you.  I  lost  my  temper  like  a  young 
ass,  and  I  want  you  to  forgive  me." 

"It  was  a-comin'  to  me  all  along  o'  my 
swearin'.  If— if  I  pegs  hout,  ye'U  see  that 
heverythink  is  done  proper,  won't  y'u;  an' 
you'll  send  th'  papers  an'  things  'ome  to  th'  ol' 
woman  ?  " 

Then  the  opiate— the  baboo  had  admini*. 
tered  the  dose  for  an  ox— drowsed  Killock,  and 
babbling  sleepily  of  roses  and  marigolds  and 
279 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


*'* 


the  "ol'  woman,"  he  fell  asleep,  and  the  boy, 
taking  the  baboo,  went  to  the  cooly  lines. 

The  frightened  Ramchunder's  story  of  muti- 
nous natives  was,  like  the  rest  of  it,  all  a  lie,  en- 
gendered by  his  fear  of  the  inspector's  anger 
at  his  desertion. 

And  the  cholera  was  spreading  but  slowly: 
three  men  stricken  since  the  death  of  the  first 
patient.  With  >pathetic  resignation  some  of  the 
sick  men's  relatives  still  clung  to  them,  while  the 
other  coolies  were  scattered  about  on  the  desert 
beyond  the  mud  walls  of  the  village. 

The  boy's  hour  of  trial  had  passed,  and  now 
he  had  no  fear.  Ashamed  of  the  weakness  that 
had  come  to  him,  he  was  even  reckless.  More 
than  once  the  baboo  cautioned  him  as  he  did 
something  for  the  stricken  coolies. 

As  Brymner-Smyth,  followed  by  Ramchun- 
der,  passed  from  one  hut  to  another,  he  saw  a 
camel  swinging  up  the  road  from  Jacobabad. 
Well  he  knew  that  easy  pacing  shamble — it  was 
a  Bikaneer  racing  camel,  carrying  some  one  who 
came  in  haste.  The  long  spindly  legs  wove  :n 
and  out  with  the  rapidity  of  urged  speed,  and 
in  the  double  saddle,  behind  the  driver,  sat  a 
European. 

Brymner-Smyth  stepped  into  the  shade  of  a 
hut,  leaned  against  its  mud  wall  and  waited. 
280 


THE    BLOODING   OF  A   GRIFFIN 

The  camel  raced  to  where  he  stood,  and  at  a 
pull  from  the  nose  cord  knelt  with  bubbling  re- 
monstrance at  his  feet.  Then  the  sahib,  whose 
face  was  dust-plastered  till  it  was  like  a  terra- 
cotta mask,  flung  himself  from  the  saddle,  and 
the  boy  saw  that  it  was  Surgeon  Saunders  from 
headquarters.  "Abrupt"  Saunders,  as  irrev- 
erent India  called  him. 

"Halloo!  Gad,  glad  you're  here,  young- 
ster,"  the  surgeon  cried  eagerly,  wiping  the  per- 
spiration from  his  forehead.  "  Knew  you'd  got 
the  route,  and  was  afraid  you  were  off  to  Dehra. 
Half-expected  to  find  no  one  but  dead  and  dying 
here— these  fellows  get  panicky  when  cholera 
comes." 

"  How'd  you  know  of  it,  sir?  " 
"  Camel  man  brought  khubber  (news)  to  Ja- 
cobabad;  s'pose  he  cleared  out  from  it— I've 
ridden  all  night.  Is  it  bad— is  it  pukka  Asiatic 
cholera,  baboo — many  dead?  Any  of  your 
Punjabis  down,  inspector?  " 

"  My  men  have  gone  to  Dehra,"  Brymner- 
Smyth  answered,  and  to  himself  he  answered, 
"Thank  God,  I  haven't  I" 

"By   Jove,    youngster,    that's    pluck!— sent 
them  out  of  harm's  way  and  faced  the  thing 
yourself,  eh?     'Tisn't  every  Griff'  would  do 
that  first  time  of  asking." 
281 


S(  j 


I* 


.f 


ii 


■  1 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

The  boy  flushed  and  squirmed  uneasily  under 
the  praise. 

"  It's  a  wonder  you  didn't  bolt,  baboo." 

Then  also  Ramchunder  squirmed  and  looked 
apprehensively  at  the  inspector;  but  they  were 
both  in  the  same  boat,  and  silence  was  a  jewel- 
studded  ring  of  gold. 

The  surgeon  unshipped  the  medicine  case 
from  the  camel's  back,  saying  cheerily,  "  Let's 
get  to  work,  baboo — ^where  are  the  cases?" 
"  Only  three?  "  he  said  presently,  when  he  had 
seen  the  stricken  ones.  "That's  good;  we'll 
check  it.  One  will  die  sure,  his  spleen's  the  size 
of  a  Chedder  cheese ;  that  itself  would  kill  him. 
We  may  pull  the  other  two  through  though." 

"Also  Killock  Sahib  is  prostrate  with  this 
affliction,"  the  baboo  said,  when  the  surgeon  had 
finished  his  examination  of  the  three. 

"What I  a  European  down?  Where  is  he? 
Lead  the  way,  baboo." 

"  Yes,  sar,"  Ramchunder  answered,  as  they 
made  their  way  to  the  bungalow.  "  Inspector 
Sahib  here  is  nurse  Killock  Sahib  like  his  own 
female  mother.  Already  the  patient  is  defunct 
many  times  of  coma  and  complication  if  In- 
spector Sahib  does  not  preserve  his  life.  All 
night  Inspector  Sahib  giving  medicine  and  keep- 
ing from  decease  the  sahib  who  is  inoculated 


■f?*'* ' 


THE    BLOODING   OF  A   GRIFFIN 

with  cholera.  Also,  I  am  make  professional 
effort  to  save  the  patient." 

Ramchunder  was  lying  with  tortuous  facility 
to  the  end  that  Brymner-Smyth  might  be  mol- 
lified into  silence. 

^^  The  little  surgeon  whisked  about  and  said: 
"  Gad,  boy  I  this  affair  won't  hurt  you  any  in  the 
service— I'll  take  care  of  that  in  my  report.  I 
knew  a  cub  once  that  acted  differently." 

The  inspector  was  in  agony.     He  cried  in 

despair,  "  Sir,  I  don't  deserve " 

"Tut,  tut,  man— modest,  eh?  That  won't 
do  in  India— not  in  the  police,  anyway.  If 
you'd  cleared  out  you'd  have  got  cashiered. 
You  re  here  at  your  post,  and  that's  the  way  it 
goes  in  my  report." 

"  Yes,  sar,"  broke  in  the  baboo  hurriedly,  for 
fear  the  inspector  would  speak  again,  "  also  I 
am  retaining  official  post,  and  every  cooly  plenty 
much  afraid,  too,  your  honor." 
"Inhere,  is  he?" 

They  were  at  the  door  of  the  bungalow.  The 
surgeon  stalked  briskly  to  the  charpoy,  on  which 
lay  Killock. 

Brymner-Smyth  waited  breathlessly,  watch- 
ing  the  surgeon's  face.    For  days  he  had  liter- 
ally loathed  this  rough  man,  and  now  he  felt  as 
though  a  brother's  life  hung  in  the  balance 
18  283 


i" 


it.' J 


I* 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

Three  minutes  of  investigation,  and  then 
Saunders,  facing  about,  his  gray  eyes  piercing 
Ramchunder,  asked,  "  Have  you  been  treating 
this  man  for  cholera,  baboo?  " 

"Yes,  your  honor;  giving  plenty  medicine; 
because  of  this  he  is  not  prematurely  deceased." 

"  Baboo,  you're  a  confounded  fool.  This 
man  has  no  more  cholera  than  I  have — he's  got 
a  bad  dose  of  funk,  and  has  lushed  gin  till  he's 
nearly  in  the  D.  T.'s." 

"  Wot's  that,  doctor— be'n't  I  got  cholera?  " 
and  Killock,  swinging  his  legs  to  the  floor,  sat 
up  and  blinked  incredulously  at  the  surgeon. 

"  No,  you  haven't,  worse  luck.  You've  nearly 
stopped  your  heart  going  with  gin  and  panic." 

With  a  sigh  of  relief  Navvy  Killock  fell  back 
on  the  bed  exclaiming,  "  God  bless  yer  'eart, 
doctor,  my  ol'  'oman  'ill  be  glad." 

And  in  the  bungalow  fate  had  arrayed  a  safe 
trinity  of  silence.  Baboo,  Navvy,  a.id  Griffin. 


a84 


THE   CAPTURE  OF  SHEITAN 

IF  a  man  go  into  a  dark  pantry  and  drink 
from  the  first  bottle  he  puts  his  hand  on, 
he  may  get  wine,  or  stove  polish,  or  cream, 
or  disinfectant.    If  he  stand  well  with  the  gods 
he  may  get  cream,  but  the  average  explorer  will 
hit  upon  the  bottle  of  disinfectant. 

Many  offices  in  India  are  filled  on  this  dark- 
pantry  plan;  and  the  office  of  police  nabob  of 
Calcutta  had  drawn  a  queer  decoction  for  its 
head.  Officially,  he  was  not  called  police  na- 
bob; that  is  only  a  story-teller's  license.  This 
story  is  about  the  time  Eden-Powell  was  nabob. 
People  asked  why  he  had  been  pushed  up  to 
that  place;  but  nobody  answered  them,  and  they 
passed  on  to  other  things. 

The  nabob  was  always  discovering  some- 
thing— some  tremendous  conspiracy  among  the 
natives.  If  some  caste  took  to  painting  their 
knees  crimson,  that  meant  another  mutiny  was 
on  the  tapis,  and  if  Eden-Powell  didn't  watch 
sharply  the  British  Raj  would  be  swept  out  of 
an  Indian  existence. 

285 


it ' 

'■i 

'3' 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


'I  : 


When  Sen  Mullick  gave  the  nautch  (dance) 
out  at  Hathabad,  near  Calcutta,  Eden-Powell 
felt  that  the  time  had  come  for  him  to  distin- 
guish himself.  A  contemplative  goat  would 
have  characterized  the  thing  he  did  as  stupid, 
but  Powell  felt  that  he  had  received  an  in- 
spiration. 

Sen  Mullick  was  one  of  the  black  sheep  the 
nabob  had  written  down  as  second  cousin  to 
Nana-Sahib.  At  this  nautch  there  would  be 
some  mischief  hatched,  and  he'd  find  out  all 
about  it  for  himself. 

That  was  why  he  got  the  disguise.  It  was  a 
decorative  thing — this  disguise — a  long,  un- 
kempt beard  and  wig,  purchased  in  detachments 
from  different  hairdressers;  and  an  up-country 
native's  outfit  of  clothes,  silk-embroidered  vest 
and  all. 

Not  a  soul  knew  about  it  but  the  nabob  him- 
self. When  he  had  saved  the  empire,  and  could 
place  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  the  leader  of 
the  new  revolt,  he  would  declare  himself,  but 
not  till  then. 

The  beard  bothered  him  a  bit — also  the  wig. 
They  weren't  sufficiently  attachable,  it  seemed 
to  him ;  the  soft  wires  passing  over  his  ears  were 
quite  inadequate  to  the  desired  stability  of  the 
make-up ;  so  he  had  his  bearer  bring  him  from 
a86 


THE   CAPTURE   OF   SHEITAN 

the  bazaar  an  adhesive  compound  warranted  to 
cement  oil  and  water  together. 

Eden-Powell  lived  at  the  big  hotel,  and  the 
night  of  the  nautch  at  MuUick's  place  he  went 
to  dinner  in  evening  dress,  as  usual. 

A  man  can't  have  all  these  big  things  on  his 
mind  and  contain  them  without  showing  a  bit 
queer;  so  when  the  nabob  disappeared  after  din- 
ner he  left  behind,  somehow,  an  impression  that 
he  was  going  a  trifle  dotty.  It  was  probably  a 
touch  of  sun.  That  is  a  common  enough  thing 
in  India;  so  it  would  not  have  mattered  much  if 
it  had  not  been  used  rather  extensively  in  trying 
to  account  for  the  sudden  disappearance  of 
Powell  later  on. 

When  he  left  the  table  he  went  to  his  room, 
packed  his  disguise  in  a  hand  bag,  slipped  quietly 
down  the  stairs,  passed  the  durtuan,  walked  a 
block,  and  engaged  a  gharry  (carriage)  just  by 
the  entrance  to  Government  House.  He  had 
done  all  this  in  so  methodical  a  manner  that  the 
elation  of  success  already  began  to  creep  into  his 
marrow.  By  Jove !  if  the  thing  came  off  he'd 
get  a  "  C.  S.  I."  or  some  other  tag  labeling  him 
as  a  great  man  in  that  land  of  great  men. 

The  lean,  coffee-colored  driver  of  the  gharry 
stretched   over  in   his   high-perched   seat   and 
looked  closely  at  the  sahib  who  had  ordered  him 
287 


1 

■,  i 

I  i 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

to  drive  to  Sen  Mullick's.  That  was  diplo- 
matic;  for  it  was  a  good  four  miles  to  Mullick's 
place,  and  some  of  the  sahibs  were  painfully  in- 
different as  to  their  ability  to  pay  for  the  luxury 
of  a  cab.  The  look  satisfied  Sunda.  The  sahib 
was  round-faced  and  fat,  therefore  prosperous; 
the  clothes  were  such  as  capitalists  wore. 

Satisfied  as  to  the  prospect  of  pay,  Sunda 
labored  faithfully  with  expressive  Hindoo  ad- 
jectives and  k  long-lashed  whip  at  the  skinny 
fats  (ponies)  that  pulled  his  gharry. 

Inside,  Powell  nabob  attached  himself  to  his 
disguise.  It  was  a  laborious  undertaking,  in- 
ducing much  profane  thought,  for  the  gum 
arabic,  or  whatever  he  had  got  from  the  bazaar, 
clung  to  everything  it  touched  with  an  appalling 
persistency.  A  porous  plaster  was  like  the  touch 
of  velvet  as  compared  with  the  amorous  embrace 
of  the  wig  and  beard  on  Powell's  head  and  face. 
He  felt  that  whatever  else  befell,  the  hirsute 
part  of  his  disguise  would  stick  to  him.  Also 
was  he  tolerably  certain  of  the  lasting  qualities 
of  the  tan  skin  dye  he  rubbed  on  face  and  hands. 
He  chuckled  softly  when  he  thought  of  the 
consternation  it  would  spread  among  the  con- 
spirators when  they  knew  that  the  police  nabob 
had  been  among  them. 

When  Sunda  arrived  at  Mullick's  he  jumped 
288 


m 


THE    CAPTURE    OF  SHEITAN 

down  opened  the  gharry  door,  and  peered  into 
Ae  .ntenor  w.th  a  broad  smile  of  Welcome  on 
h  s  face  for  the  fat,  chubby,  youthful  sahib.  who 

had  done  h.n,  the  honor  of  selecting  hi,  gharry. 
An  old  man,  who  could  have  given  many 

pomts  m  disreputable  appearance  to  a  hill  fakir! 

emerged  from  the  inner  darkness.    Sunda  drew 

back  w.th  a  weird  feeling  of  most  uncomfort. 

ab  c  aston.3hment.    He  took  another  look  into 

fa  e^  H  u"a^'  '"'  ''^^  ^'*  *'  P'"«nt 
„!i  .k  I  u  .  «°"'=-^»n«hed.  There  was 
only  the  disheveled  thing  in  much-tangled  hair 
and  native  garb. 

ca.J5r  ^""c!  ^'^-  '^^^  P"*'"*"  h'  had 
earned  was  Shettan.  the  evil  spirit,  who  some- 

times  rode  with  gharry  uutlla,  before  a  great  ill 
leJl  upon  them. 

The  driver's  lean,  big-jointed  knees  tipped 
toward  each  other  in  drunken  desolation.  He 
clung  to  the  door  of  the  gharry,  and  steadied 
himself,  as  a  harsh,  thick  voice  muttered  from 
the  mastic-matted  beard  the  order,  "Bhitol" 
(wait  for  me). 

Eden-Powell  passed  into  Mullick's  compound 
(garden),  and  Sunda  climbed  wearily  up  to  the 
battered  seat  of  his  arklike  vehicle.  There  is 
not  much  charm  in  the  ungilt  life  of  a  ticca 
gharry  walla,  but  at  that  moment  the  misery  of 
289 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


i^i 


Sunda's  existence  wai  intensified  a  hundredfold. 
Why  had  Sheitan  selected  him  as  a  victim  host? 
Years  before,  Sunda  had  sent  his  child  wife  to 
sleep  with  a  dose  of  datura  (poison),  but  it  was 
so  long  ago  that  it  could  not  be  because  of  that. 
Even  Baloo,  who  drove  the  big  chestnut  horse 
with  the  white  face,  and  had  also  brought  a 
fare  to  MuUick's  nautch,  could  of?er  him  no  con- 
solation  when  he  told  of  the  Satanic  passenger. 
"  It  will  bring  you  evil,  brother,"  Baloo  said. 
"  It  is  always  that  way  when  he  rides— evil,  evil, 
nothing  but  evil." 

Then  BalOo  thought  of  something.  "We 
will  go  and  see  Baboo  Chunder  Dey.  He 
knows  of  these  things,  for  they  are  written  in 
the  books  he  reads — those  that  are  of  our  speech, 
and  also  those  that  have  come  over  the  black 
water  from  Bilati  (England)." 

Where  one  baboo  is  thin,  nine  are  fat  and 
ponderous.  Chunder  Dey  was  one  of  the  nine- 
tenths,  and  his  mind  of  a  greasy  solemnity.  "  If 
they  both  said  it  was  Sheitan,  it  might  even  be 
so,  for  the  incongruosity  of  this  thing  was  ex- 
patiated upon  in  the  theosophical  and  metaphys- 
ical publications."  That  was  what  Baboo  Dey 
said  with  grandiloquent  unction,  for  next  to 
ghee-battened  food  the  baboo  loves  complex 
English.  Sunda  saw  at  once  that  Chunder  Dey 
290 


THE    CAPTURE   OF   SHEITAN 

understood  the  thing.  Sunda's  simple  ways 
were  no  match  for  the  Evil  One,  but  with  Ba- 
boo  Chunder  it  was  quite  different. 

Chunder  pulled  at  his  hookah  (pipe)  in  re- 
flective  gasps.  The  hookah  bubbled  back  like 
a  laden  camel,  and  the  drivers  waited. 

"Why  not  catch  this  budmash  (bad  fei- 
low)  ?  "  asked  Chunder  Dey  at  length.  "  There 
will  be  much  gain  in  that — also  honor.  If  SheU 
Ian  is  reincarnated,  and  gets  into  your  gharry 
again,  Sunda,  we  may  catch  him." 

And  while  Eden-Powell  sat  among  the  others 
and  watched  the  nautch  and  listened  for  words 
of  sedition,  the  baboo  gathered  unto  himself 
twelve  lusty  hirelings  from  the  bazaar  and  in- 
structed  them  as  to  the  capture  of  Sunda's  pas- 
senger. He  carefully  concealed  from  them  the 
fact  that  this  was  supposed  to  be  Sheitan. 

When  Eden-Powell  left  the  nautch  in  disgust 
at  the  paucity  of  mutinous  conspiracies  he  fouTid 
Sunda  waiting  for  him.  He  got  into  the  gharry, 
and  about  a  mile  out  ran  into  a  reil,  live,  up-to- 
date  mutiny.  He  had  discovered  it  in  reality; 
his  long-dreamed-of  revolt  had  materialized. 
That  India  was  in  a  blaze  from  one  end  to  the 
other  he  never  doubted;  but  what  concerned 
him  more  immediately  was  that  he  was  consid- 
erably mauled,  most  effectually  bound  and 
291 


1 


THIRTEEN  MEN 

gagged  by  means  of  an  evil-smelling  breech 
cloth  shoved  into  his  mouth,  carried  off,  and 
cooped  up  in  a  little  heathen  temple  called 
Ootypara. 

The  capture  had  been  most  successful.  Sun- 
da  was  overjoyed;  he  promised  to  carry  Chunder 
Dey  back  and  forth  to  the  city  free  of  charge 
for  a  whole  year. 

Eden-Powell's  bag  containing  the  evening 
clothes  had  been  left  in  his  gharry — that  was 
all  that  was  left  of  the  round,  fat  sahil  the 
Evil  One  had  spirited  away.  Sunda  took  the 
clothes  down  to  the  Hugli,  and  threw  them  in 
the  river.  The  bag  he  sold  in  Rada  Bazaar  for 
three  rupees,  and  thus  secured  payment  of  his 
fare  in  a  roundabout  way. 

A  sampan  boatman  fi^ed  up  the  clothes  and 
turned  them  over  to  a  policeman.  The  police- 
man took  them  to  the  station,  and  there  was 
read  on  the  band  "  Eden-Powell."  Also  Eden- 
Powell  was  missing.  It  was  really  useless  to 
look  for  him,  for  was  not  all  this  proo '  that  he 
had  drowned  himself?  Everybody  suddenly 
remembered  that  the  nabob  had  been  queer  for 
a  long  time.  The  second  mutiny  fad  had  un- 
hinged his  mind  to  a  certainty,  and  the  night  he 
had  disappeared  he  had  been  quite  mad  at  din- 
ner— quite  mad ;  all  remembered  that.  To  drag 
292 


THE   CAPTURE   OF  SHEITAN 

the  Hugli  would  be  like  dragging  the  cloud*— 
«•  u  .-lesi.  A  six-mile  current  and  a  flood  and 
ebb  tide  made  an  undertow  that  lucked  down 
big  ships  when  they  touched  bottom  as  though 
they  were  eggshells. 

Eden-Powell  was  drowned;  there  was  no 
doubt  whatever  about  that.  The  notice  went 
out,  and  a  new  man  was  put  in  his  place.  Chun- 
der  Dey  read  of  these  things,  and  fed  his  pris- 
oner,  Shettan,  through  a  hole  in  the  door  of  the 
temple  at  Ootypara,  and  in  nowise  connected 
him  with  the  nabob  of  the  Calcutta  police. 

That  Eden-Powell  was  furious  is  one  way  of 
putting  it.  He  even  tore  down  little  bits  of 
plaster  from  the  strong,  brick  wall?  in  his  rage, 
and  shied  them  at  the  fat.  greasy  lace  of  Chun- 
der  Dey  as  he  gazed  at  him  through  the  square 
opening  in  the  door.  But  that  made  no  differ- 
ence to  the  baboo. 

It  took  his  mind  many  days  to  determine  what 
he  should  do  with  his  captive.  At  first  Powell 
concealed  his  identity;  it  would  hardly  do  to 
have  it  known  that  he  had  been  shut  up  by  a 
Bengali  baboo.  His  prestige  would  be  gone, 
and  he  would 
force. 


simply    have    to    leave    the 


At  last,  when  he  saw  that  there  was  small 
prospect  of  getting  out,  he  told  Chunder  Dey 
293 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

that  he  was  the  police  nabob.    At  this  the  baboo 
smiled  solemnly  and  said: 

"  Eden-Powell,  the  police  nabob,  is  dead.  He 
drowned  himself  in  the  river,  and  they  have 
found  his  bbdy.  I  am  a  '  B.  A.'  and  have  read 
these  things  in  the  publications." 

"Who  the  deuce  am  I,  then?"  asked  the 
prisoner. 

"  You  are  the  Evil  One,"  answered  the  ba- 
boo, blinking  his  cow  eyes  at  Powell. 

Powell  tried  to  remove  the  beard,  but  it  was 
like  a  fresco  that  had  been  set  in  mortar.  The 
skin  he  might  pull  off,  but  there  was  no  severing 
the  hair  from  it.  His  disguise  had  been  a  most 
emphatic  success. 

Many  natives  heard  of  the  capture  of  the 
Evil  One,  and  came  and  stared  with  charming 
unconventionality  at  Powell,  and  passed  uncom- 
plimentary  remarks.  The  nabob  was  a  good 
linguist,  and  these  remarks  revealed  themselves 
to  him  in  all  the  beauty  of  the  native  vernacu- 
lar. The  trend  of  most  of  the  criticisms  on  his 
personal  appearance  was  that  he  was  not  even 
a  respectable-looking  Sheitan — did  not  come  up 
to  their  conception  of  that  awful  incarnation. 

Then  the  baboo  sat  down  and  wrote  a  letter 
to  the  "  Powers  "  in  Calcutta  anent  his  captive. 
He  knew  enough  of  official  life  to  realize  that 
294 


:l:  t 


THE    CAPTURE    OF   SHEITAN 

if  he  hoped  for  any  kudos  (glory)  for  himself 
in  the  thing  he  must  get  at  the  chief  magistrate, 
else  the  underlings  would  cheat  him  out  of  the 
credit  of  it;  so  he  addressed  his  letter  to  the 
viceroy. 

Of  course,  the  baboo  was  clear  enough  as  to 
what  he  meant  to  convey  in  his  epistle,  but  it 
can't  be  said  that  the  production  elucidated  that 
point  very  satisfactorily.    He  wrote: 

••  By  your  ExceUency'.  providential  favor,  last  night  the 
Satanic  ruler  of  the  place  where  alw  Pluto  will  catch  your 
ExceUency's  enemies,  did  come  among  us  at  the  time  of  Sen 
Mullick  8  naulch.  I,  who  am  Baboo  Chunder  Dey,  B  A 
am  soUcitouj  of  an  appointment  in  a  Government  office  by 
the  &vor  of  the  sahibs,  did  advise  Sunda  to  forcibly  take 
possession  of  said  Sheitan. 

"Also  in  said  gharry  was  the  bag,  which  I  have  not 
taken,  or  perhaps  Sunda  has  sold. 

"  Your  ExceUency  will  know  that  this  agent  of  Pluto,  who 
IS  Shtttan,  did  project  himself  from  the  body  of  a  fat  sahib 
»nd  IS  even  now.  with  hirsute  adornments  like  your  Excel- 
lency has  seen,  a  much  penitent  fakir. 

"  Your  humble  petitioner  craves  and  humbly  begs  that 
your  Excellency  will  advise  as  to  the  adjustment  or  other- 
wise of  the  EvU  Spirit  who  is  now  m  the  possession  of  your 


That  was  pretty  much  the  state  of  the  letter 
signed  by  Chunder  Dey,  and  delivered  by  hand 
at  Government  House. 
295 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


\^ 


% 


The  secretary  to  the  viceroy  read  it  more  or 
less,  and  was  on  the  point  of  consigning  it  to 
the  wastebasket  when  he  remembered  that  the 
viceroy  had  a  penchant  for  gathering  unique 
and  original  manuscript  as  evolved  from  the 
brain  of  a  baboo;  so  he  submitted  it  to  her 
Majesty's  representative  with  the  remark  that 
the  writer  was  evidently  a  large  consumer  of 
bhang,  or  opium,  or  both. 

Every  viceroy  has  some  predominant  fad, 
and  Lord  Roma's  was  the  ever-engaging  inves- 
tigation of  native  character  as  allied  to  things 
spiritual.  There  was  an  incongruous  air  about 
this  idea  of  a  Bengali  baboo  having  captured  the 
King  of  Evil  that  tickled  the  viceroy's  fancy  im- 
mensely. 

He  sent  for  Chunder  Dey.  The  baboo  left 
his  durvian  to  guard  Eden-Powell,  and  pre- 
sented himself  before  Lord  Roma,  feeling  that, 
at  last,  the  gods  had  sent  him  fortune. 

The  august  presence  of  the  ruler  of  all  the 
Indies  unnerved  him,  and  his  account  of  the 
capture  of  Sheitan  was  a  marvelous  bit  of  dis- 
jointed imagination.  The  thing  he  had  cap- 
tured by  the  aid  of  twelve  stout  henchmen  had 
descended  from  the  clouds  to  the  top  of  Sunda's 
gharry.  Sunda,  who  always  spoke  the  truth, 
would  bear  him  out  in  that,  he  asserted.  That 
296 


THE    CAPTURE   OF  SHEITAN 

was  near  to  the  house  of  Sen  Mullick.  Then 
the  thing  that  was  assuredly  Sheitan  had  one 
minute  been  like  a  sahib,  and  the  next  like  a  doe, 
and  finally  it  was  an  evil-looking  fakir. 

Everybody  had  run  away  because  their  livers 
turned  to  water  in  fright;  only  he,   Chunder 
iJey,  had  remained,  and  captured  this  that  was 
Shettan     No  one  had  helped  him,  because  they 
were  afraid;  only  the  twelve  stick  men  had  been 
of  assistance  at  the  time  of  putting  him  in  the 
temple  which  is  at  Ootypara.    He  had  done  all 
this  for  the  good  of  the  sahibs  and  their  relig- 
ion;  and  if  his  Excellency  would  be  kind  enough 
to  pass  an  order  for  his  appointment  in  the  reve- 
nue  department  it  would  be  well. 

Taken  altogether,  it  seemed  to  be  enough 
to  interest  even  the  viceroy.  So  Lord  Roma 
ordered  that  a  policeman  be  sent  out  to  bring 
•n  this  crazy  fakir  whom  Chunder  Dey  had 
locked  up  in  the  temple.  "They  may  kill  the 
poor  fellow,  you  know,"  he  said  to  Lord  Dick 
the  secretary. 

An   order  was   passed  to   police   constable 
«-  914     to  proceed  in  a  gharry  to  Hathabad 
and  bring  in  the  native  fakir  from  the  Ooty- 
para  temple. 

"C  914"  was  a  red-faced  Irishman  lately 
recruited  from  a  sai/'        ' "  -  -      - 


ailing  ship,  and  he  felt 
297 


) 


con- 


4 

I: 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

siderably  the  importance  of  this  his  first  real 
constabulary  commission.  When  Eden-Powell 
saw  the  rosy  face  of  "  914  "  at  the  wicket  in  his 
prison  door,  he  called  out  blithely,  "  How  are 
you,  my  man?" 

"  No  familiarity,  ye  h'athen,"  responded 
"914"  scornfully.  "Say  'Sir'  when  ye  see 
a  sahib,  or  ye  may  get  yer  fuzzy  head  cracked, 
ye  black  spalpeen." 

The  nabob  gasped  in  astonishment.  "  I'll  fix 
you  for  this  insolence,"  he  said  with  a  fine  return 
to  his  old  pompous  self. 

"Insolence,  ye  dirty  fakir  ye  I"  exclaimed 
"914,"  his  Irish  dander  getting  up.  "An' 
ye'll  fix  me  1  I've  heard  that  as  soon  as  a  naygur 
in  this  country  learns  English  he  gets  cheeky,  an' 
I  belave  it  now." 

By  this  time  the  constable  had  the  door  open, 
and  producing  a  pair  of  steel  handcuffs  from 
his  pocke.  rushed  at  the  prisoner  as  though  he 
were  going  to  take  a  fall  out  of  him  in  the  Greco- 
Roman  style.  The  new  constable  wasn't  an 
adept  at  putting  on  the  bracelets,  but  he  had  the 
strength  of  a  bull,  and  soon  Eden-Powell  was 
securely  shackled  and  considerably  shaken  up. 

"  I'll  discharge  you  from  the  force  for  this," 
he  said  pantingly  as  the  constable  with  no  gentle 
hand  dragged  him  along  toward  the  gharry. 
298 


THE    CAPTURE   OF   SHEITAN 
"  Oh  yes,"  replied  "  914  "  derisively,  "  you'll 

ve  e1?k'  "t^ff  *^  ^'«™y'  *-.  perhaps, 
ye  Enghsh-spakm*  beggar  of  a  native.  Come 
get  m  here,  me  Circassian  beauty,"  he  added, 
prodding  the  nabob  in  the  ribs.  "An*  it'll  be 
better  form  for  you  to  be  talkin'  yer  own  native 
*«A;  than  gallivantin'  with  broken  English  " 

Eaen-Powell  was  horror-struck.  He  would 
rather  die  than  that  all  this  should  get  out.  He 
Jelt  like  exasperating  the  Irishman  until  the  lat- 
ter murdered  him.  Once  or  twice  on  the  long 
dnve  to  Calcutta  he  tried  to  enter  into  conversa 
t.c.n  with  h.s  guardian,  but  the  latter,  sitting  bolt 
upright,  ordered  him  to  shut  his  bazoo,  or  talk 
to  the  native  driver  in  his  own  language. 

It  drives  me  fair  mad,"  he  said,  "  to  hear 
you  naygurs  talkin'  English.  It  was  the  likes 
of  you  that  murdered  all  the  women  an'  chil- 
dren in  the  '  black  hole.'  " 

When  the  nabob  tried  to  remonstrate,  "  914  " 
jabbed  him  in  the  ribs  again  with  the  end  of  his 
baton  and  told  him  to  hold  his  whisht.  Baboo 
iJey  fc  lowed  behind  in  another  gharry 

Lord  Roma  had  ordered  that  the  fakir  be 
brought  straight  to  Government  House,  for  he 
had  become  deeply  interested  in  the  affair,  and 
wanted  to  see  just  why  the  natives  had  pitched 
upon  this  man  as  a  representative  devil. 
**  299 


THIRTEEN   MEN 


In  under  the  pink-yellow  stucco  gate,  lion- 
topped,  "914"  passed  with  his  prisoner,  and 
up  the  steps  that  led  to  the  imposing  guardian 
in  crimson  and  yellow  who  held  possession  of 
Government  House  door;  "911"  stated  his  or- 
ders; the  crimson-gold  native  disappeared, 
returned,  and  said,  "  Lord  Sec'tary  Sahib  sends 
salams." 

They  passed  in,  Chunder  Dey  with  them, 
and,  after  a  wait  of  twenty  minutes  in  a  hall, 
were  ushered  into  the  presence  of  the  viceroy. 

Eden-Powell  started  impetuously  forward 
when  he  saw  the  viceroy  and  Lord  Dick,  the 
secretary,  sitting  there.  The  powirful  hand  of 
"914"  brought  him  back  with  a  jerk  that 
nearly  dislocated  his  neck.  "  Kape  still,  ye 
h'athen,"  he  hissed  in  his  ear.  "  Salam  the 
Lord  Sahib." 

Chunder  Dey  salamed  obsequiously  and  ad- 
dressed the  viceroy.  "  Your  Excellency,  this  is 
the  maker  of  all  evil,  Sheitan." 

"  Bring  him  closer,"  replied  the  viceroy. 

It  was  like  a  nightmare  to  Eden- Powell.  If 
he  gave  his  name  or  were  recognized  the  far- 
cical absurdity  of  the  thing  would  be  sufficient 
to  cost  him  his  place,  he  felt  sure.  If  he  didn't 
he  might  be  sent  to  jail  as  a  troublesome  fakir. 
It  was  a  terrible  situation ;  as  bad  as  a  mutiny. 
300 


THE   CAPTURE   OF  SHEITAN 

"Does  he  u, demand  English?"  asked  the 
viceroy. 

"Yes,  your  Excellency,"  replied  Eden-Powell. 
The  viceroy  gave  a  slight  start  at  the  sound 
of  the  voice.  It  was  most  assuredly  very  Eng- 
hshhke.  Powell  saw  th<-  keen  gray  eyes  fixed 
upon  him  with  a  peculiar  intensity  of  expres- 
sion.  "Your  Excellency,  this  is  all  a  mis- 
take— began  Powell,  when  "914"  inter- 
nipted  him.  "  Kape  still,  ye  scut  1  Answer 
when  ye're  spoken  to,  and  kape  yer  tongue 
atune  yer  teeth." 

"  What  are  you  saying,  officer?  "  queried  the 
viceroy,  not  hearing  plainly. 

"  He's  like  a  parrot  with  his  English,  your 
t-xcellency,"  replied  the  constable,  saluting. 
''  What's  your  name?  "  the  viceroy  asked. 
"  I  can't  give  it,  your  Excellent,"  replied 
liden-Powell  hesitatingly. 

As  he  spoke  the  gray  eyes  again  flashed  upon 
Powell  like  the  rays  of  a  fluorescent  lamp. 
liden-Powell  started— surely  the  right  vice-regal 
eye  had  closed  in  a  subdued  wink.  He  had 
never  heard  of  a  viceroy  winking;  it  seemed 
incompatible  with  the  awful  dignity  of  the 
office,  but  that  right  lid  had  most  certainly 
drooped.      Then    Lord    Roma    spoke 


'  Well,  never  mind 


again. 

your  name;  we'll  get  that 
301 


■I    I 


THIRTEEN   MEN 

later.    You  speak  English  well;  where  did  you 
learn  that?" 

"At  Harrow-on-the-Hill — I  mean  over  in 
England,  your  Excellency." 

Again  the  upper  lid  of  the  vice-regal  eye 
stumbled  and  fell  down,  completely  curtaining 
the  steel-gray  of  the  eye.  There  could  be  no 
doubt  about  it  this  time;  Eden-Powell  knew  a 
wink  when  hp  saw  it — that  is,  when  he  saw  it 
the  second  time.  What  it  meant  he  didn't 
know,  but  a  wink  always  telegraphs  the  informa- 
tion, "  Go  slow." 

The  viceroy  turned  to  l;aboo  Chunder  Dey. 
"What  makes  you  think  this  is  Sheitan?"  he 
asked. 

From  the  mass  of  voluble  information  the 
baboo  poured  out  he  gleaned  that  it  v.  as  chiefly 
the  personal  appearance  of  the  fakir  that  in- 
spired the  baboo  with  his  belief.  Also  Sunda 
had  declared  that  he  had  reincarnated  himself 
several  times  in  his  presence. 

"  I  don't  blame  the  baboo,"  hazarded  Lord 
Dick;  "  this  chap  certainly  looks  more  like  the 
devil  than  anything  I  ever  saw." 

"  He's  a  bad  one,  your  lordship,"  chipped 
in  "  914."  "  He  puts  on  as  inuch  stoile  as  an 
evictin'  landlord." 

Now  Lord  Dick  was  an  Irish  landlord  him- 
302 


in 


THE    CAPTURE   OF   SHEITAN 

Ihl'/^f  ?  ?*'''  °'  '""«'•*"  P""d  through 
he  .oul  of  the  vceroy  at  thi,  shot  of  the  co„. 

.table,.  But  "9,4  "was  oblivious  to  that- he 
was  possessed  with  the  desire  to  get  much  pun- 
ishment  for  the  cheeky  fakir. 

baboo,  that  you  are  quite  right  ir.  your  sur- 
mise,  and  are  quite  deserving  of  that  appoint- 
ment because  of  your  services  to  the  state  over 
this  matter.  You  will  see  that  the  baboo  re- 
ceives a  clerkship  in  the  revenue  department  " 
he  said,  turning  to  Lord  Dick.  "  as  reward  for 
capturing  the  devil.    You  may  go,  baboo." 

Chunder  Dey  salamed  his  thanks,  and  walked 
out  on  soft,  spring  air.  His  feet  smote  heavily 
on  the  polished  floors,  but  he  knew  it  not_he 
telt  that  he  was  swimming. 

Eden-Powell  listened  in  blank  amazement, 
and  was  about  to  remonstrate  when  the  hard 
polished  end  of  the  baton  passed  persuasivelJ 
-cross  three  nbs  of  his  right  side.  That  and 
the  memory  of  those  two  winks  induced  him 
to  keep  his  mouth  closed. 

When  the  baboo  had  gone  the  viceroy  ad- 

Sir  ''kI?-"     "'^-''.offi-.thafthis 

fakir  ,s  probably  quite  harmless;  not  at  all  the 
iivil  One  the  baboo  would  have  us  believe     You 
may  leave  him  there  in  that  room  on  the  right. 
303 


3  ■; 


M 


ri 


THIRTEEN    MEN 

I  will  have  the  case  looked  into  by  the  proper 
people.  You  can  take  the — ah — the — ah — 
handcuffs  of!  his  wrists;  then  you  may  report  to 
your  inspector  that  you  have  left  him  in  my 
charge." 

"  C  914"  placed  Powell  in  the  room  indi- 
cated, took  oS  the  bracelets,  gave  the  prisoner 
a  frightful  scowl,  saluted,  and  marched  sol- 
emnly out. 

Then  Lord  Roma  stepped  into  the  room  in 
which  had  been  placed  the  fakir,  closed  the 
door  deliberately  and  said:  "Well,  Mr.  Eden- 
Powell." 

The  nabob's  knees  collapsed,  and  he  said  im- 
ploringly: "You  know,  then?" 

"  Ahl  I  was  not  mistaken,  then,"  interrupted 
the  viceroy  blandly.  "  I  thought  I  recognized 
your  voice  when  you  first  spoke.  May  I  ask 
why  an  officer  of  her  Majesty's  service,  occupy- 
ing the  position  Mr.  Eden-Powell  did,  appears 
before  me  in  this  plight,  charged  by  a  baboo 
with  being  Sheitani" 

It  was  terribly  humiliating.  Eden-Powell 
told  his  Excellency  the  whole  truth. 

Later  on  the  information  went  forth  that  the 
victim  of  Chunder  Dey's  campaign,  the  de- 
ranged fakir,  had  been  sent  ofi  to  his  own 
country. 

304 


•k! 


THE    CAPTURE   OF   SHEITAN 

When  people  saw  Eden-Powell  in  hit  office 
again  they  learned  that  he  had  not  been 
drowned  at  all,  but  only  in  the  General  Ho^ 
pital  for  two  weeks  on  sick  leave. 

Sunda  still  believes  that  he  carried  the  Evil 
One,  and  Chunder  Dey  that  he  captured  him, 
for  did  he  not  get  his  appointment  because  of 
that? 

Eden-Powell  believes  no  more  in  putting 
down  young  mutinies,  single-handed,  in  a 
mastic-applied  disguise. 

The  whole  thing  showed  that  the  viceroy  had 
a  good  heart  and  much  sense.  He  had  saved 
the  nabob's  dignity  with  a  wink. 


0) 


THE    END 


305 


h 


i 


k 


I     L; 


■i  ,* 


MAARTEN  MAARTENg  LATOST  BOOK. 
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A  GOOD  AUTOMOBILE  Sl'ORY. 

Baby  Bullet. 

By  Lloyd  Osbourne,  Author  of  "  The  Motor, 
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This  is  the  joUiest,  most  delightfully  humorous  love 
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The  tale  is  fascinating  f.?m  the  start.  The  adventures  of  Baby  Bullet 
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D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY,    NEW    YORK. 


WORKS  OF  ROBERT  W.  CHAMBERS. 


lOLE. 

Color  inlay  on  the  cover  and  many  full-page  illus- 
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'■  •  lole  *  u  unquestionably  a  classic."— Jii»  FranHtm  BuOtHn. 

"  Mr.  Chambers  is  a  benefactor  to  the  human  race." 

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«,n,'l*?^«tw  "I*  ""?''™?,  »»<1  delectable  bit  of  nonsense  that  has 
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_„■'?*".  joy™'  abounding  charm  of  '  lole  ■  is  indescribable.  It  is  for 
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—New  York  Press. 

i»,.!!i5i';-^''i'°'"".t?',?*,™'  '^'"™  ■"'■"«"  "o™  briUiant  and  more 
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"  As  delicious  a  satire  as  one  could  want  to  read." 

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must  always  stand  in  theToremost  o,  its  class.  "-ci.«^«  Evening  PoU 


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i 


A  GREAT  ROMANTIC  NOVEL. 


The  Reckoning. 

By   Robert   W. 
Henry  Hutt.    $1.50. 


Chambers.      Illustrated    by 


"A  thrilling  and  engrossing  taie."—JVett/  Vori  Suh. 

■   J'  ^''*"  **  ^y  •''**  ">^  "«w  work  is  as  good  as  '  Caidiean '  it 
IS  hardly  necessary  to  say  more."—  Tie  Dial. 

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Reckomng  is  one  of  his  best  and  will  delight  lovers  of  good 
novels.  — Boston  Herald. 

'■  It  is  an  exceedingly  fine  specimen  of  its  class,  worthy  of  its 
predecessors  and  a  joy  to  all  who  like  ple:.ty  of  swing  and  spirit." 

— London  Bookman. 

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particular  show  a  care  in  historic  detail  that  put  them  in  a  different 
class  from  the  rank  and  file  of  colonial  novels."— ^ao*  Neuis. 

"  A  stirring  tale  well  told  and  absorbing.  It  is  not  a  book  to 
forget  easily  and  it  will  for  many  throw  new  light  on  a  phase  of 
revolutionary  history  replete  with  interest  and  appeal." 

— Chicago  Record-HercUd. 

"Chambers'  bullets  whistle  almost  audibly  in  the  pages:  when 
a  twig  snaps,  ar.  twigs  do  perforce  in  these  chronicles,  you  can 
almost  feel  the  presence  of  the  savM;e  buck  who  snaps  it.  Then 
there  are  situations  of  force  and  effect  everywhere  through  the 
pages,  an  intensity  of  action,  a  certain  naturalness  of  dialogue  and 
human  nature  in  the  incidents.  But  over  all  is  the  glamor  of  the 
t-hambers  fancy,  the  gaujy  woof  of  an  artist's  imagination  which 
glories  in  tints,  in  poesies,  in  the  little  whims  of  the  brush  and 
pencil,  so  that  you  have  just  a  pleasant  reminder  of  unreality  and 
a  gUmpse  of  the  author  hiuiself  here  and  theie  to  vary  the  interest." 

— St.  Louis  Republic. 


I?     p 


D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY,    NEW    YORK. 


JVAjeauUful  fonance  of  the  day,  of  Robert  Buhu.* 
Nancy  Stair. 

of  Borthewcke  are  admirably  relieved  aganst  each  other 
and  Nancy  herself  a,  irresistible  as  she  if  Ta  Lai  To  be 
sure  she  IS  a  wonderful  child,  but  then  she  manaS  to 
»ake  you  beheve  .he  ,*as  ,  real  one.  Indeed,  «S  and 
naturalness  are  two  of  the  charms  of  a  story  that  ,S 

=?:;Sji;^^'^-Se:t5^--^^A^^ 

S?terS.^°7  *°  ''''  '"  '""'  *-«  -J""  do  not  care 
ttort  f Jr/^  ?^    ^^  ""°°'  "'^^P"  *«  «t««t  of  a  lore 
«ory  fuU  of  incident  and  atmosphere." 

A  tUMy  b«t  dcKribcd  with  the  word  ■  cl«mri^' - 

•■ ~ff<u*iitg*mJ'*H 

D^APPL£TON    AND    COMPANY.    NFW    v^,^" 


LOVE. 


MYSTERY. 


VENIC 


if     i 


The  Clock  and  the  Key. 

By  Arthur  Henry  Vesey.    lamo.    Ornamen 
Cloth,  I1.50. 

This  is  a  tale  of  a  mystery  connected  with  an  old  do 
The  lover,  an  American  man  of  means,  is  startled  out 
his  sensuous,  inactive  life  in  Venice  by  his  lady-love's  sec 
for  his  indolence.  She  begs  of  him  to  perform  any  ti 
that  will  prove  his  persistence  and  worth.  With  the  cha 
of  Venice  as  a  background,  one  follows  the  adventures 
the  lover  endeavoring  to  read  the  puzzling  hints  of  the  c 
clock  as  to  th^  whereabouts  of  the  famous  jewels  of  ma 
centuries  ago.  After  following  many  false  clues  the  lo\ 
ultimately  solves  the  mystery,  triumphs  over  his  rivals,  a 
wms  the  girl. 
AMERICA. 

"  For  an  abKiblng  norf  it  wouU  be  haid  to  bttlt."—atr/tr'i  WtMy. 
ENGLAND. 

"  It  wiU  hold  the  ruder  tUl  tbe  lut  pegs."— £«*,  Timu. 
SCOTLAND. 
-ciJI^flW?'^  *"'"  ^  comperison  with  Poe'i  immortal  ■  Gold  Bug 


NORTH. 

"  It  ought  to  make  a  nayri."—ll<mtrtal  Sun. 
SOUTH. 

EAST. 

"  Dont  faU  to  get  It."— A*»  Yart  Sum. 
VfEST. 


m.'.i'l,'^™  S"'  •'h'fninB;  story  of  intripie  and  mystery,  which  will  rat 
p.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY,    NEW    YORI 


raiw— dbamun^ 


